A Chance Meeting
by denise1
Summary: A series of stories featuring Sam and an OC
1. A Chance Meeting

# - indicate italics/flashbacks

A Chance Meeting

By

Denise

Something was bothering Sam. She didn't quite know what it was, but it'd been lingering in the back of her mind ever since their return from Abydos.

Something like that nagging feeling that sits in the pit of your stomach when you've forgotten something and it'd go away if you could just remember what you'd forgotten.

She knew this accounted for her edginess lately, her short temper with the rest of her team, the extreme agitation she felt when she'd walk into the cafeteria and see them all sitting together, talking or more accurately, Jonas talking with Teal'c commentating and the colonel grunting.

She couldn't think up a reason for her irritation. The boys hanging together was nothing new, they'd been doing it for years. The faces may have changed, along with what they did, but the basic fact was that the guys still hung together.

Or maybe that was what was bugging her. They did hang together. The colonel, Teal'c and lately even Jonas, went places together. Sometimes, she knew it was just the colonel chaperoning, but other times she knew he was the instigator of their little field trips, dragging them along to keep him company.

They rarely invited her anymore.

Maybe she'd turned them down too many times over the years and they thought she'd rather not spend time with them. Or maybe they just didn't care, maybe after all these years she was still 'the girl'.

Whatever the reason, they'd done it again. Soon after their return from what was now their last trip to Abydos ever, the boys had vanished, leaving yesterday for parts unknown, or Denver, whichever they found first.

In a burst of restlessness and suddenly not in the mood to dissect SG-6's latest find, she soon found herself in Hammond's office, requesting leave.

Not surprisingly, he granted it and two hours later she was southbound on I-25, astride her Harley and with no more cares than how far she could go before she had to stop for gas, or was too tired to keep driving.

She reveled in the freedom of being on the open road, the complete and utter lack of responsibility beyond taking care of herself. The engine thrummed between her legs and she gunned the motor, grinning with the surge of adrenaline the rush of speed and power gave her.

She could feel the wind on her hands, the soothing warmth of the sun soaking into her leather jacket and jeans. Unlike some, she'd never rigged her bike for a radio; she didn't want the distraction of any other sound but the steady drone of the bike and the wind when she was riding.

By the time she reached the traffic jam, she didn't even care as she slowed, then stopped, the divided four-lane highway more resembling a parking lot than a major though-fare. A jack-knifed cattle truck was the rumor she heard from passing motorists, no fatalities other than the bovine kind, but still enough of a mess to keep the interstate closed for at least another hour or two.

A couple of kindly highway patrol troopers were directing people to turn around, back to Colorado Springs and an alternative route. Sam declined, instead taking advantage of her transportation's versatility and taking the bike off the road, finding a shady spot under a large conifer tree and lying down, willing to patiently wait out the closure of the road so she could continue upon her trip to…wherever she was going.

#

She knelt beside Janet, helping her scoop black goo into a test tube. Technically the doctor wasn't even supposed to be on duty, but there was no one else to do it, not before the clean up crew arrived in an hour to thoroughly clean and sanitize the locker room.

_She heard footsteps and looked up, seeing the rest of her team standing in the doorway, dressed in civilian clothes._

_"Did you find anything?" O'Neill asked._

_"Probably nothing we can use," Janet answered. "Maybe we'll at least get a cellular level analysis on the Goa'uld's, maybe even find some DNA information."_

_  
"A lot of that will probably be mine," Daniel admitted grudgingly, confirming what she'd expected. Janet had been professionally closed mouthed about the whole ordeal, other than making a comment that the goa'uld seemed to protect its host from all sorts of diseases, even those of the sexual kind._

_"Ewwe." O'Neill made a face, indicating his disgust. Yeah, she was disgusted too. _

_Banging a goa'uld, that was one to go down in the record books._

_General Hammond walked in behind them and Sam got to her feet, unable to deny the sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. If Daniel's tryst with Hathor was well known, then so was her assault on the General. Things like that got officers time in Leavenworth at hard labor…she sort of hoped defeating the goa'uld would buy her some leniency, maybe just time off without pay or something like that._

_"Yeah," Daniel confirmed, not seeing the general's arrival._

_"General Hammond, sir," Sam said, trying to keep her voice from shaking too much. Great, the day of reckoning, and it had to be public. Fantastic._

_"At ease, Captain. At ease, Doctor," the older man said._

_"Thank you, sir. About your head, I'd like to explain that if I could," Sam stuttered, giving into the need to forestall his complaint. Maybe she could convince him that it wasn't that bad. Doctor Fraiser had said it was just a mild concussion, nothing serious._

_"Captain, I'm putting you and Doctor Fraiser up for a commendation medal," he said._

_"Well, thank you, sir, but I can explain… You are?" she said, her mind finally catching up with her mouth._

_"If you hadn't kept your wits about you and done whatever was necessary we could have put this entire planet at risk. Good job, ladies," he congratulated._

_"Thank you, sir," she said, shooting the doctor a quick look. This was a surprise. Maybe she'd hit him harder than she thought…then again she sure as hell wasn't going to complain. A commendation beat suspension._

_"Well, that's all," he said, obviously not comfortable. He turned and left the room._

_"Nice job," O'Neill congratulated._

_"Yeah," Daniel agreed._

_Sam smiled and nodded, simply looking to Janet as they left._

_They left._

_She and Janet saved the base almost single handedly and they left. It didn't matter that 'the girls' had done it, with Teal'c's help; they still weren't good enough to socialize with. The doctor sighed knowingly and knelt back down, intent upon finishing her task. "You know what I have in my fridge?" she said after a second._

_"What?" Sam asked, trying not to show how much it hurt when they just walked out. Maybe they'd be back. _

_"A bottle of champagne left over from New Years. I got called in," she explained. "How about if we finish up here and go over to my place and see if we can put it out of its misery," she invited._

_Sam looked towards the door, her heart lurching when someone walked by…only to fall when she recognized Sergeant Siler. "Sure," she said, recognizing the obvious. They weren't coming back. "It sounds like fun." She forced a smile onto her face. _

_#_

A shadow fell across her face and she opened her eyes, half expecting some cop to be harassing her for sleeping by the roadside. Raising her hand to hide the glare she looked up, surprised to find a man standing over her. He was similarly attired, faded jeans covering long legs, his feet shod in worn boots. A t-shirt and denim jacket completed the ensemble. "I like you idea. Mind if I share the shade?" he asked, raising dark glasses to reveal warm hazel eyes.

"It's a free highway," she answered, waving with her hand.

He sat down and leaned back, stretching out his legs with a sigh. "You from around here or just passing through?" he asked after a few minutes.

"Both," she answered.

"Ooh, woman of mystery," he teased, making her smile. "Lemme guess, spring break?"

She looked at him, pulling down her sunglasses so she could look over them. "Ok," he said. "Not that then. Running away from home? Is there a husband or boyfriend up the road I should know about?" She held up her bare left hand, wiggling the fingers. "That doesn't mean much, although the lack of a tan line is a good thing. Come on, throw me a bone here?" he begged.

"No husband, no boyfriend," she said, lying back in the grass. "I'm just…riding."

"It looks more like sitting to me."

She laughed. "You're one to talk."

"True," he shrugged. "Seriously though, where are you headed?"

"Wherever I end up," she answered. "Really. I'm on vacation," she declared.

"Hey, so am I." He held out his hand. "Eric, Eric Anderson," he introduced.

"Sam Carter," she answered.

"Samantha?"

"Sam," she insisted.

"Sam it is then," he agreed.

They talked for another hour, until the road ahead was clear and traffic was again moving. Finally noticing that the sun was soon to set, they got on their respective bikes and rode south, continuing until well after night fall, finally pulling over in Trinidad.

Choosing a restaurant, they parked their bikes and walked in, relieved to find that it was a casual place, one with deep vinyl booths and heavy wood tables. They sat down, each ordering a beer to go with their chicken fried steaks. "So, what are you on vacation from?" he asked as the waitress delivered the salad that came with their meal.

"I aah, I lecture at the Air Force Academy," she said, taking refuge in the white lie. Technically she wasn't lying, she did lecture upon occasion.

"Ooh, a teacher," he teased. "I didn't know motorcycle riding was a course they taught cadets."

Sam laughed. "Not usually. Astrophysics," she said, steeling herself for the 'oh crap' look.

To her surprise he frowned for a second then smiled. "Pshew. For a minute there I thought you said astrology and I wondered what they're teaching kids these days."

Despite herself, she laughed. "How about you?"

"I'm a software designer for Columbine. We provide software for TV stations," he said, nodding to the waitress as she took their salad plates, promising to return with their dinners in a few minutes.

"Really? What kind of software?"

"It's for TV Traffic, the scheduling of commercials and the such. We've been in the business for years, so at times it's hard to integrate our stuff with the changing technology. Which is where I come in. I get to travel around the country making things work and keeping computers talking to each other."

The waitress arrived and Sam leaned back letting her set the plate of steaming food in front of her. "Wow, that's…"

"Boring," he interrupted, doing the same.

Sam shook her head. "No. Just not something I ever thought about. I mean it stands to reason that there would have to be some sort of system to getting commercials on the air, but I've just never…I mean, you turn the TV on, you watch the show—"

"And hate the commercials."

"Pretty much," she agreed, picking up the steak knife and cutting into the thick gravy smothered steak. Scooping up some mashed potatoes, she speared a piece of steak, managing to get the whole mess to her mouth without dripping cream gravy down her front.

He shrugged. "Hey, I hate them too. They just happen to pay my rent, which is a nice thing."

Conversation dwindled as the both applied themselves to their food. The chicken fried steak was delicious, a thin tenderized steak breaded and fried to a crispy brown. It was covered with a thick white pepper-speckled gravy and complimented with real mashed potatoes and fresh green beans.

The food was filling, and heavier than what Sam usually ate, but also extremely satisfying. It was her father's favorite dish, and one her mom used to make on his first night home. In her mind, it was a dish she associated with homecoming and happy endings. So it was a dish she deemed comfort food, something that it was hard for restaurants to mess up and one item she could usually find on the menu no matter where she was stationed.

Their meal finished, Sam snagged the homemade roll off her plate and pulled it apart, dipping it into soft honey butter, letting the sweetness serve as dessert. "So what are your plans for the night?" he asked.

She shrugged. "I don't know. Maybe poke around tomorrow, do a little sight seeing."

"Would you like some company?" he asked. "I mean, I know we met like…" He looked at his watch.  "Six hours ago, but…I'd like to spend some time with you."

Sam stopped and thought, her initial instinct was to play it safe, politely decline his invitation and go off on her own. But she was tired of playing it safe. What had that gotten her, really? An empty house and non-existent social life. "Ok," she said as the waitress brought the check. Both of them reached for it and he gently tugged it away from her.

"I stole your shade," he said, reaching for his wallet.

"Eric, there's no need."

"Think of it this way," he said, standing up. "If I hadn't met you I'd have settled for a fast food taco and be up all night with heartburn. A good night's sleep is worth it."

Not wanting to make a scene, she acquiesced, going outside while he settled up. She zipped up her jacket in defense from the chill night air. A few minutes later he came out, also zipping up his coat.

Feeling the need to set some boundaries, she looked up the road, noting a Motel 6 sign in the distance, with a Krispy Kreme right beside it. "Thank you for dinner," she said, getting on her bike and reaching for her helmet.

"Sam?"

"0800 at the Krispy Kreme," she said. "I'll buy breakfast." She revved the engine and peeled out of the lot, smiling widely behind the visor of her helmet as she roared down the street, leaving him behind.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

_#_

_The guys walked into the tent and she watched as they reverted to Neanderthals. Any other time, she'd have been flattered, at the moment she was torn between discomfort and disgust._

_"Daniel, find me an anthropologist that dresses like this and I will eat this head dress," she complained, feeling the need to get in the first word._

_"You are...the most beautiful women I have ever seen," Abu enthused, his eyes nearly popping out of his head. She felt her cheeks flush under his scrutiny, and it wasn't helped by the looks on the guys' faces._

_"Uh, I guess the kid doesn't get out much. Look uh, I will not wear this thing over my face," she said as the boy left. She picked up the scarf, trying to demonstrate it. "I don't care how much embroidery it has on it. And this dress, or whatever it's called, I mean I can't move, I can't walk."_

_"I don't know, It...It kind of works for me," O'Neill finally stuttered. ___

_"It's, it's you, it's..."___

_"It's you."___

_"Defiantly you," Daniel agreed with Teal'c staying mercifully silent. "Uh, uh the good news is, uh you were right. One of Abu's plants seems to work as an anesthetic. Were taking some home to get it, uh, a-analyzed," Daniel continued._

_"All things considered, Samantha, if we have to come back here, it might be a better idea to bring an all male team. No offence," Colonel O'Neill said, at least making an attempt to be contrite._

_  
"Well, in view of the fact that you all get to go to this party tonight and I get to stay in the yurt that smells like rancid yak butter none taken. I'll just get a good nights sleep, and hope for better luck next time," she said, knowing that there really was no other option, short of hiking, in the dark, back to the gate. Which would make their mission a bust…because of her. Nope, not something she wanted going down on her record. _

_The boys turned to leave, Daniel and Teal'c going first with O'Neill following them. At the tent flap he turned back. "You going to be alright?" he asked, his voice sincere and slightly apologetic, neatly defusing her growing irritation. It wasn't his fault, not totally anyway. He couldn't help the culture, no more than her CO in Iraq could fight the cultural restrictions for female personnel ten years ago._

_"Still doubting me? I haven't been afraid of the dark since I was two," she said, trying to make light of the situation._

_  
"You look great," he said, the closest to an apology she was likely to get. She watched him go then turned a 360, studying her surroundings for the first time. As prisons went, this one was certainly comfortable. _

_Sitting down on a pillow, she reached for her pack, feeling the need to keep her possessions close to her. If it wasn't so bulky and weren't for the battery issue, she wished she could have brought her laptop, at least then she'd have had something to do._

_Digging in her pack, she found a familiar square shape. Drawing out the cards, she pulled her legs in, not caring if cross-legged was the appropriate way to sit in a dress or not…it wasn't like anyone was going to be seeing her anyway._

_"Ok, Sam," she muttered. "Let's see how many kinds of solitaire you know."_

_Three hours later she knew the answer to that question. Ten kinds. Or at least ten kinds where she didn't think she was cheating too badly. There was a loud series of whoops from outside and she got up, taking a moment to stretch before making her way to the tent flap, carefully looking around it without being seen. She could see them walking around, food and drink flowing freely. _

_This sucked. It really sucked. She'd spent the last ten years working and training and knew just as much as they did, more in some cases, and here she was, segregated just because of her gender._

_Part of her understood it. They were the aliens here, the visitors and it was up to them to fit in with the locals. But there was another part of her that was pissed as hell at the boys for giving in. Would they have acquiesced so quickly had it been THEM wearing the dress and locked in the tent? She did not think so._

_And none of them even protested. That's what irked her. There wasn't even a token 'no, she stays with us' moment. It was almost like they were glad to get rid of her.__  
#_

The slamming of her neighbor's door woke Sam and she lay in bed for a few minutes, rolling over to shield her eyes from the light spilling in around the worn curtains. This was why she'd bought a house…her work hours and sleep patterns were too crazy to easily tolerate neighbors being just a wall away.

She contemplated staying in bed for a while, sleeping in was a luxury she rarely indulged in. _0800 at Krispy Kreme._ "Crap," she muttered, rolling to see the clock. 0700. She sighed and sat up, running her fingers through her tousled hair. Should she meet him?

She didn't have to. She could just check out and hit the highway. With luck she could be ten or twenty miles down the road before he realized she was standing him up. That would be the smart thing to do. Or would it? Hell, it wasn't like she was agreeing to move in with the guy or anything. It was sightseeing, lunch and maybe dinner then….then who knows?

Exactly. Who knows? Who knows what they'll do today or how it will turn out.

She made her living stepping off into the unknown. Hell, if she could walk through a stargate and explore alien planets on a nearly daily basis, she could sight see with a near total stranger.

Buoyed with unaccustomed enthusiasm, she got out of bed and made her way to the shower, regretting for a second that she'd packed to be alone, not to be in the company of a man, and a nice man at that.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

He roared into the Krispy Kreme ten minutes behind her, but still five minutes early. He parked next to her and took off his metallic blue helmet, hanging it on the bike. "Morning," he said cheerfully.

"Morning," she replied, pushing her sun glasses up to the top of her head. Like her, he seemed to be packing light, his outfit much like yesterday's, jeans and a t-shirt. His short hair was damp, making it darker than the light brown/dark blonde it was last night.

"Do they have any left?" he asked, swinging his long leg over his bike.

"Probably," she answered, falling into step beside him. They entered the shop and ordered their breakfasts, two donuts each and two coffees. Going back outside, they sat on the curb by their bikes and ate the sweet treats.

"So, what were your plans for today?" he asked, blowing on his coffee to cool it.

She shrugged, licking a glob of custard from the middle of her filled donut. "I don't know. I haven't thought beyond this." She held up the partially eaten donut.

"Well, the desk clerk at the hotel mentioned this scenic highway that goes out of Trinidad. It goes west and north around the Spanish Peaks Wildlife area and through Cuchara Pass. Scenery is supposed to be to die for. The bad news is, it's pretty much an all day thing. It dumps you out west of Walsenburg," he explained.

She shrugged. "I only booked my room for one night anyway."

He smiled. "The Mainstreet Bakery and Café is right around here. I was thinking…grab a picnic lunch and head out."

She stuffed the last of her donut into her mouth and washed down with the dregs of her coffee. "I just need to hit a convenience store, grab some bottles of water and some sunscreen," she said, knowing that even though it was fall the sun still had the power to toast her red as a lobster within hours.

"Yeah, me too," he agreed. They both got on their bikes and left the donut shop. It took them about half an hour to find the café, conveniently right across the street from a gas station/convenience store. They took turns gassing up their bikes and stocking up on water and sunscreen before crossing the street and ordering box lunches. Fortunately the clerk was used to packing for hikers and he put their food in small Styrofoam containers to keep the club sandwiches from succumbing to the heat.

Following the signs, they found the Highway of Legends and started to make their way west on the narrow two lane highway. The scenery was fantastic, it was just after Labor Day which meant that they had less other tourists to deal with as they drove around mesas and bluffs, the brilliant green of the firs and spruce contrasting with the sparkling golden of the aspen leaves.

The road wound through a half dozen small towns, which afforded Sam the opportunity to take one pit stop and rid herself of her morning coffee, before turning north and heading uphill towards the Cuchara Pass. With the towns behind them, the traffic noticeably lessened and Sam let her mind wander as she automatically followed Eric, navigating the narrow strip of black top.

_#_

_She hurried down the chill corridors of the SGC, ignoring the odd looks from the SF's. Yes boys, I do have legs, she thought irritably as she spied the object of her search. "Colonel!" she called out.___

_He turned and looked back, not noticing or not caring that she was in her civilian clothes. "Yeah?"_

_"Sir, look at this." She held up the clock she'd found that morning hanging neatly on her kitchen wall…the clock she never bought.___

_"So?"___

_"So, it was in my house," she explained, hurrying to keep up with him as he walked down the hall. "The code 3 team was supposed to take away all their equipment when they left ... no more cameras, no more listening devices."_

_"So they forgot one, Carter."___

_"Are you sure?" she challenged._

_"No," he said after a second._

_"Sir. Is the SGC secretly keeping tabs on me?" she asked, desperate for but also dreading his answer.___

_"Secretly?" he asked, trying to deflect her question without answering it.___

_"Colonel, I did my duty in reporting the Alien encounter, and now everyone thinks I'm crazy," she said. _

_  
"Look, Carter, here's the bottom line," he said after a minute. "No one is seeing what you've seen. And until that happens, we're all gonna think you're NUTS!" he said in his blunt way._  
#

Yeah, they thought she was nuts all right. Right up until they bashed in her door to apprehend the alien they didn't believe she'd seen. They spied on her, used her to gather information about Orlin and try to capture him.

It had taken her a long time to get over the feeling of betrayal left behind by that whole mess. It was weeks before she'd felt comfortable even moving around her own house, before she'd stopped jumping every time she heard a car door slam. More than once she'd caught herself peering out her window, trying to see if there were any panel vans or dark sedans parked on her quiet street.

And it'd taken her months to lose the bitterness she felt every time she was alone with the guys. And even then, she was never really comfortable with them, and even uncomfortable walking around the SGC, seeing the looks on peoples' faces and knowing that they were talking about her. She'd heard the rumors, the stories that she had hidden Orlin so they could have their own private love nest. More than once she suppressed the urge to tell them to go ask the NID, they'd been spying on her all along, they had the whole week on tape. If they had any questions, they could sit down and watch it in living color.

Maybe this was how Daniel had felt when he went nuts. But at least then they had proof in his blood, proof of the creatures in the PTD's. In the end, everyone supported him. They apologized. They had yet to apologize to her.

She got into the habit of refusing every invitation, no matter how innocent. She bailed on Daniel's birthday party, bribing Major Castleman to switch shifts with her at the last minute so she had an iron clad excuse not to go. She started to pay for caller ID on her phones so she could avoid picking up the call if it was one of the guys, letting her answering machine deal with the situation.

After the colonel tried to corner her in the gym one day, she stopped using it, instead paying a ridiculous sum for a gym membership off the base. It was that same gym that had nearly gotten her killed.

_#_

_"I'll be right back," Janet promised, pulling the curtain shut as she went off in search of a sterile syringe. The doctor had requested one last blood test before she released Sam out of her care, a request Sam had grudgingly given into._

_At this exact moment in time, it was taking all her self control not to flee the infirmary and the bad memories associated with it. Right now watching ER gave her the creeps, much less sitting on a bed that bore too many similarities to the one that had imprisoned her for the last week._

_She knew that Janet wasn't running her tests just for the heck of it, and that was about the only thing that was keeping her there. Multiple and very colorful bruises up and down her arms testified to the real reason for the doctor's obsession with blood tests and tox screens. Thus far, she'd identified at least a half dozen different substances in her blood, none of which were supposed to be there, but all of which were._

_Even for a normal person, Sam knew it wasn't a good thing to be drugged to the gills, but she was 'special'. She was 'unique'…which basically meant that she was weird._

_Things affected her differently, there was no such thing as a normal prescription for her, not anymore, not since Jolinar had crawled into her head and died._

_And that difference was what had plastered a big honkin target on her back and nearly gotten her killed._

_"Man, what a close call," someone said as she heard two people walk into the room. They must be the nurses Janet had been talking about, the ones that were on break._

_"No kidding," the second one agreed. "I mean, think about it. They didn't even know she was gone for two days, much less in any sort of trouble..."_

_"Was it really as close as I heard?"_

_"Oh yeah. From what I hear they had the needle full of poison in her arm and everything. Two more seconds and that's it. Game over."_

_More like ten seconds, Sam corrected silently, compulsively rubbing the raw spots on her wrists where she'd torn the skin struggling against the handcuffs. Ten seconds and she'd have been dead. _

_"You know, it's kinda sad," the first nurse said._

_"How so?"_

_"Think about it. You get off half an hour late and your husband's calling the front gate. Marcia has to fax her mother a copy of her schedule. I mean, can you imagine vanishing for days before anyone notices? I mean, imagine how it would have been had she been on leave or something? She'd have been dead and dissected before anyone even knew she was missing."_

_The nurses' sent a chill down her spine. They were right. If it hadn't have been for her missing her duty shift, no one would have even missed her. She'd have been like one of those little old ladies, the ones that die and lie in the middle of their living room floor and decompose for days or weeks, even years before anyone notices that they're missing._

_A body that lies unclaimed in the morgue for years because no one cared that the person was dead._

_Hearing the two women leave, she slipped off the bed and out of the infirmary, not quite sure where she was going, just that she had the overwhelming desire to not be alone._

#

Eric braked and Sam followed suit, slowing down as they turned off the road and slowly made their way over the short grass and gravel, their destination apparently a small grove of trees surrounding an abandoned and mostly derelict church.

She parked her bike beside his and took off her helmet, running her fingers through her smashed hair in an attempt to revive it. She climbed off the bike and turned around, staring at the fantastic view. They were near the top of the pass and she could see for miles. "Wow," she said, hearing him moving to stand beside her.

"Yeah. This was definitely worth the trip," he agreed. "We shoulda bought a camera at the gas station."

She turned around an opened her saddle bag, pulling out a bottle of water. Opening it, she drank deeply, then reached in and got another one, offering it to him.

He accepted it with a smile. "Hungry?"

"Starving," she answered.

He walked back to his bike and got their lunches. They sat in the meager shade from a pin oak and opened up their lunches, relieved to discover that they were still fresh. Sam ate, finding the sandwich one of the best she'd had in a while. Eric evidentially felt the same way since both of them finished eating rather quickly. They packed up their trash and walked around exploring the ruin.

"So you lecture the cadets on astrophysics," he said, picking up a long thin branch to serve as a sort of snake stick.

"Sure do."

"You know, I just never imagine cadets in the Air Force learning things like that," he said, leading the way around the structure. Two of the walls had fallen in, exposing the rest to the elements, the roof a small pile of rubble and rotten timbers in the middle of the room.

"What did you think they were taught?" she asked, picking up a battered enamelware bowl.

He shrugged. "I don't know. Military stuff," he said, stepping over a fallen tree trunk.

"Well, they do learn that, but…the Air Force is more than just….blowing stuff up," she said. "The academy is just like any other four year university, just with a slightly different focus. If they make it, cadets graduate Second Lieutenants and usually have a service commitment to the Air Force. After that a lot of them move onto private sector jobs."

"I'm sorry I asked," he said.

"No." She reached out and grabbed his arm. "I'm sorry. I overreacted."

"What year were you?" he asked.

"What makes you think I graduated from the Air Force Academy?" she bantered.

"Because I react the same way when folks pick on Mizzou."

She looked at him then smiled. "Class of nineteen….." She turned away, deliberately mumbling.

"Excuse me? I didn't catch that," he teased.

"I'd tell ya, then I'd have to shoot you," she said.

He laughed and walked in the other direction, stopping and kneeling down. "Well, whatta ya know?" he said, picking something up and brushing the dust off of it.

"What have you got?" she asked, moving towards him.

"Old Spanish coin," he said, tossing it to her. "Worth a pretty penny if that's what I think it is."

She studied the coin, trying to decipher the faded writing. "It's gold," she said. "I have no idea how old it is, but I have a friend that might know." She tossed it back to him. "He's no archaeologist, but one hell of a quick study. And persistent. He'll wear the internet out until he finds out who that is."

Eric tossed it back to her. "Ask him them."

She caught it, looking down at the glittering coin in her hand. "This is yours."

He moved towards her, standing just a couple of feet away. "If you have it, then I have a good excuse to call you," he said softly.

"Do you need an excuse," she replied just as softly, looking into his hazel eyes, knowing what was to come, her breath quickening in anticipation. She could turn away now, break the mood. She didn't.

"I hope not," he said, reaching out and wrapping his hand around the back of her neck, pulling her close.

She stepped forward, mimicking his gesture. She pulled his head close and kissed him, relieved when he kissed her back. She wrapped her other arm around his neck, thrilling in the heavy warmth of his hand through her t-shirt.

Denying her doubts, she surrendered to the sensations, opening her mouth as she opened her body, for once not thinking, just feeling…and enjoying every single second of it.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

# _"Daniel told me," Colonel O'Neill admitted, rolling his eyes slightly.__"You saw Doctor Jackson?" Jonas asked.__"Actually, it's not the first time."__"Is he all right?" Sam asked, not quite believing what she was hearing. Not that he'd seen Daniel…but that he'd seen him twice…and never said a word. Daniel was her friend too, didn't they think she'd want to know that the ascension worked and that he was ok?__"What else did he say?" General Hammond asked, cutting to the chase.__"Whoa, wait. You guys don't think I'm nuts or anything like that?" O'Neill asked, openly surprised.__"I too have recently see Daniel Jackson," Teal'c confessed.__"Really?" Sam asked, her mind boggling, seemingly unable to do more than make inane comments.__"Why didn't you say something?"__"Why did you not?" Teal'c countered O'Neill.__"Well to be honest, I wasn't quite sure it was really happening the first time."__"Neither was I."_

_Hours later, Sam opened her locker door, the scene from the briefing room playing through her mind. They'd both seen him, both seen Daniel…and they hadn't said a word._

_The sting of their betrayal still hurt, even hours later. The colonel, the colonel she could almost understand. Hell, if it hadn't have been for the crystal entity, he probably never would have told her about Charlie and his wife. CO's did not usually confess their deepest darkest secrets to their subordinates._

_But Teal'c…she thought Teal'c was her friend. God, how many times had she gone to him, asking his advice, seeking his counsel. He knew how much Daniel's ascension had hurt her, how desperate she was to know that he was ok, and he never said a word. Never told her that Daniel had visited him, kept him alive, and comforted him while he was dying._

_Damnit, she'd been dying too, how come no one had come to see her? How come they'd just left her alone in that damn cell, how come HE'D left her alone? He hadn't even seemed happy to see her on Abydos. 'Sam.'  That's all she got? Not even a hi? Just a half-hearted acknowledgement, and that only after she'd spoken first._

_Maybe he'd been busy, she didn't know what it was like to be ascended, maybe he was off…glowing somewhere, at some convention or something…or maybe he just didn't give a damn. After all, what was she to him, definitely not one of the boys. She was 'the girl'. _

_The person that, no matter how hard she tried, would never truly be one of them, never truly be 'one of the boys'._

_The boys that played together, stayed together._

_Slamming the metal door shut, she took great pleasure in the echoing clang. Wrapping her indignation around her like a shield, she stalked out of the SGC, seeking refuge in her solitude until she could deal with her anger, file it away where she could ignore it, and deny it._

#

Sam opened her eyes and looked into the sleeping face of her lover, trying to banish the last of her dream. They were lying on a blanket from her pack, yet another example of Jacob Carter's 'You never know when you'll need it' school of survival. Although she had a funny idea that he hadn't quite envisioned this use when he'd bought it for her, proud that he'd managed to find something useful during one of his off world jaunts.

Feeling cold, she wrapped her arms across her bare chest as she watched him. Eric was asleep, snoring softly in the full shade cast by one of the remaining walls. It'd been so long since she'd met a guy like him. So long since she'd had a perfect afternoon. So long that she'd practically forgotten what it felt like. So long since she'd been with someone that only wanted her, not her title, not her job, not her brain…her.

What a bum deal he got. If one of her best friends didn't think she was worth saving what the hell kind of hope did they have? Desperately afraid of what she'd see in his eyes when he awoke, she carefully extracted herself from his arms, frowning when her bare foot found something hard. Bending down, she picked up the old coin and stared at it, squinting as it glinted in the setting sun. Impulsively she kissed it and gently laid it on his chest, then quickly got dressed, wincing as she encountered more than one sore patch of sunburn. Sunscreen only worked when you put it on, she thought. And she sure as hell hadn't put any there.

Ignoring the discomfort, she finished dressing, stopping to take one last look at him. "I'm sorry," she whispered. She turned, making her way to her bike as quietly as she could. Putting her helmet on, she raised the kickstand and pushed the heavy bike towards the road. Once she was on the asphalt, she climbed on the bike, casting one last glance over her shoulder. The old mission was silhouetted in the setting sun, its sun-baked walls standing in stark relief to the fiery western sky.

Ignoring her impulse to go back, she turned the key, bringing the engine to life. She revved it twice, and then released the brake, nearly losing control of the bike as her rear tire spit gravel behind her.

She sped up the road, refusing to look back, telling herself that the tears streaming down her cheeks were caused by the wind.

Fin


	2. Reunion

Reunion

By

Denise

Sam stood on the narrow sidewalk torn between blessing and cursing the current weather. Even though it was early December, the weather in Colorado Springs was more autumn like than what one would expect in the Rockies just a few weeks away from Christmas.

There was frost on the ground and in the air in the mornings, and if she looked up she could see snow piling up on the nearby mountains, especially Pikes Peak which had gotten its first snowfall of the season last month. But once the sun rose, it warmed the air enough that you sometimes didn't even need a jacket, jeans and a sweatshirt being enough for comfort

She knew she should be counting her blessings for the mild winter, a year ago at this time she remembered struggling to work through three foot drifts, but at the moment, she really wished that the day wasn't so pleasant. Because a raging snow storm would have been a great excuse and gotten her out of her present predicament.

"Isn't this cool?" Daniel asked, holding up a small blown glass swan. He turned it over, watching as the colored water inside sloshed gently. "What does it do?"

"It's a barometer," Sam explained, ignoring the frowning look from the shopkeeper as she took the fragile item out of his hands and set it down. This whole trip could be a very costly one, if the owner made her honor the 'You Break It, You Buy It' signs posted every few feet along the long table outside his shop.

The glass gallery was one of the few shops in Manitou Springs that remained open year round, catering not only to the summer tourists but also to the year-long residents of Colorado Springs and when Daniel had expressed interest in exploring it, she'd tried to dissuade him, only to discover that one thing he hadn't forgotten was his stubborn streak.

Really, Sam knew she shouldn't complain too much, this was the first time she'd been assigned to Daniel's babysitting detail, the colonel having taken most of the responsibility to watch over their amnesiac friend.

She knew he'd been taking Daniel home on occasion; following Janet's suggestion that maybe the quickest way to restore his memory was to expose him to things outside the SGC. And since she and the colonel were the only two members of the team that actually lived off the base, he usually took the job.  However, Sam doubted that he'd been taking Daniel out into public much, at least not going by how her friend was acting. But she also knew that Daniel needed to get acclimated to living on Earth again, he wasn't going to be able to live on base forever like he had been the past few weeks…if for no other reason than to stop paying the exorbitant sums to keep his stuff in storage.

"Barometer? That measures atmospheric pressure, right?" he asked.

"That's right," she replied.

"Ooh, I like this," he said, touching a wind chime and filling the air with tinkling music. "I bet it looks great in the sun too."

"Yeah, I bet it does," Sam said, reaching out to still the music. "Daniel, why don't we head to the next shop," she said, smiling weakly at the store keeper.

"Ok," he agreed, taking one last look at the wind chime. "I think I used to have one of those," he said softly.

"Anything's possible," she said, not really remembering if there'd been one in the stuff they'd packed up or not. Regardless, she knew she was destined to return to the shop, she still hadn't gotten him a Christmas present and one of those wind chimes would be perfect.

They walked further down the street and he paused, looking around. "I want something to drink," he declared.

"Oh, ok." She looked down the street. "I think there's a coffee shop right over…" she turned back, oomphing slightly as she bumped into a bulky form."I am so sorry," she said automatically.

"Sam?"

Recognizing the voice, she raised her eyes to look the man in the face. "Eric?" She blinked, wondering if she was seeing things. He looked the same as he had three months ago, his tan was a little lighter and his hair was a bit longer, like he'd waited too long for a hair cut. "I aah…what are you doing here?" she asked lamely.

"We're based here," he answered. "I aah, wow, I sorta thought that I might bump into you again but…well, it's been a while." She flushed slightly, her guilt making her hear accusation in his voice.

"Sam, I…oh hi." Sam turned, remembering her companion.

"Daniel, I'm sorry. This is aah, this is Eric," she introduced.

"Hi. Um, look, I'm going to go get some coffee," Daniel said, clearly picking up on her discomfort.

"Ok," she agreed. "You have some money?" Daniel rolled his eyes and nodded. "Sorry," Sam muttered. "I'll meet you there in a little bit." He walked away and she turned back to Eric. "Sorry," she said, cringing as the word left her mouth. She had to be setting the world record for apologies today.

"So, is that why you left?" he asked softly.

She shook her head. "No. He's just a friend." He raised his eyebrows. "He just….got out of the hospital. He's a little…confused."

He nodded. "So, if he's not why…"

Sam sighed, running her fingers through her hair. "I don't know," she said. "I…"

"Was it that bad?"

She flushed. "No. It…wasn't. It's nothing to do with you, really, it's me. I should have stayed but…"

A car honked and she turned, grimacing as she watched Daniel make his way across the street, nearly getting hit in the process.

"Looks like you better go," he said. "Before he kills himself."

"Yeah, I…" She stopped, suddenly desperate not to take the easy out he was giving her. "You know the Applebee's? On Academy Boulevard."

He nodded. "Yeah."

"1800 tonight. I promise I'll be there," she pledged.

"Promise?" He raised his eyebrows, clearly skeptical.

"Cadet's honor," she said.

"Make it 1900 and you have a date," he countered.

"Ok," she agreed, looking into his eyes, not wanting to break the contact.

"You better go," he said after a second. "Before your friend winds up back in the hospital."

She gave him one last lingering look, and then spun on her heel, sprinting across the street, eager to rescue Daniel before he ordered the whole menu.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

At 1845, Sam pulled into the parking lot and claimed a space, taking a second to remain behind the wheel, her palms curiously damp. After their coffee break, she'd spent the next few hours chaperoning Daniel around, thanking whatever gods that were listening that he hadn't pressed her about Eric. Maybe he thought that he should have known him or something. Or maybe he'd totally forgotten about the encounter.

Whatever the reason, she was incredibly grateful that he hadn't pressed her for answers that she didn't have to give, because they were answers she didn't even know herself.

Even now, three months later, she didn't know why she'd left him. They'd had fun for the roughly twenty-four hours they'd been together, more fun than she'd had in quite a while. In fact, getting on her bike and heading down the road had been one of the hardest things she'd ever done.

A car parked beside hers and she looked over, recognizing Eric in the driver's seat. Getting out, she locked her car and smiled at him over the roof of his sedan. "Hey," she said nervously.

"Hey," he answered as she fell into step beside him. "Traded in your bike?"

She looked back at her car and grinned. "Motorcycles and snow don't get along well," she said. "Afraid I'm a fair weather rider."

He held the door open and she walked into the restaurant. "That's ok, so am I," he answered, holding up two fingers to the hostess. "Non-smoking?" he asked her.

"Please," she replied and they followed the girl as she led them to their seats. It was a Tuesday night so the restaurant was fairly deserted, just enough people to lend an aura of busyness but not so crowded that they had anyone sitting right beside them.

Sam slid off her coat and tossed it into the booth, sliding in after it. Eric did the same and they picked up their menus, both flipping back to the drinks section. Their waitress came over and gave them a suitable peppy recitation of their current specials.

"I'll have a beer, whatever's on tap," Eric ordered, declining her offers of colorful mixed drinks.

"Same," Sam said.

"I'll be right back," she promised as she went to fetch their drinks.

"So aah, what's good?" he asked.

Sam shrugged. "Almost everything."

"Think they have chicken fried steak?" he asked, his eyes sparkling in amusement, referring to their last meal.

She chuckled. "Yeah, and chicken fried chicken too."

He made a face. "Now that's just…"

"Weird?"

"Yeah." The waitress arrived with their beers and asked if they were ready to order. Eric looked to her and she nodded. He motioned for her to go first.

"Steak, medium rare with fries," she ordered.

"The same," he said. "But baked potato with extra butter." The waitress wrote it down and picked up their menus, going to put their orders in. "So?" he said, looking across the table at her.

"I owe you an apology," she said. "It was aah…"

He shrugged. "Hey, it wasn't like we exchanged rings or anything," he excused. "Not that I wasn't a little pissed off at the time, but, I got over it."

"Still I…running away's not something I normally do."

"Is that what you were doing?"

"I don't know.  I really was on vacation and…"

"I was there," he said, the tone of his voice conveying his feelings.

"No. I mean, yes, but not that way. Eric, it was…I don't know, it just felt right at the time and I just went with it," she said, remembering the thrill of having someone interested in her…someone from Earth for a change. "I don't regret anything that happened that day, up until I left," she said, looking him in the eyes.

"You could have come back."

"The farther I got, the harder it was," she confessed.

He stared at her for a second, and then smiled. "Well, to tell you the truth, I know enough friends who know friends who know folks at the Academy.  I probably could have tracked you down," he admitted.

"Why didn't you?" she asked, suddenly curious.

"I figured you had a reason for leaving," he said.

She shrugged self-consciously and leaned back, allowing the waitress to place their dinners in front of them. "Maybe not a good reason," she muttered, still not quite sure what had fueled her flight from the SGC all those months ago, that led into her subsequent meeting with Eric. All she knew for sure was that more than once she'd woken up from a dream, still feeling the warmth of the sun on her skin, tasting the sweetness of his kisses in her mouth, remembering the lingering touch of his hands on her flesh.

They dropped the topic, moving on to discuss events of the last three months. It turned out, he'd spent a good portion of the past ninety days out of town, visiting several cites, a couple of them towns where Sam had been assigned in the past. The common knowledge made their dinner conversation easy, flowing neatly from one topic to another as Sam compared her recollection of the cities with his more recent memories.

All too soon, dinner was over and the waitress removed their empty plates, good naturedly taking their refusal of desert and promising to bring the check in a few minutes.

Now that the distraction of eating was gone, an uncomfortable silence fell over them. "Have you heard about that new Sean Connery movie?" he asked just as Sam opened her mouth to say something.

"Yeah," she said, jumping on the topic. "It looks good." The waitress brought their check and Sam grabbed for it. "It's the least I can do since I sorta ran off and left you—"

"Buck naked in the middle of the Colorado Mountains," he finished.

She laughed, cursing the blush she could feel coloring her face as she handed the server her credit card and ignoring the woman's strange look. "That too. And Friday sounds good," she said, hoping like hell that the Tok'ra didn't show up in the meantime with info on Anubis' newest weapon. If her father demanded her presence on the other side of the universe, even Selmac might not be able to fix the damage.

He looked slightly surprised, and then smiled. "Cool. Ok, then I'll aah…"

Sam dug into the pocket of her jacket and pulled out one of the receipts from her afternoon shopping. When the waitress brought back the slips to be signed, she used the pen to write down her numbers. "The first is my home, and the second my cell," she said, handing it to him. She grimaced. "Chances are I won't be home but you can just leave me a message and I can meet you there."

He frowned. "I don't get to pick you up?" he asked lightly, tearing off a piece of the receipt and writing down his own numbers.

"Sure, why not," she said, smiling at the novelty of actually being picked up for a date. She couldn't remember the last time she'd had a guy come to her doorstep.

"I'll aah, I'll call you on Thursday and get directions," he said, standing up and reaching for his coat.

"That sounds good." Sam slipped on her jacket and led him out of the restaurant, shuddering slightly at the chill night air. They walked back to their cars, him standing beside her as she unlocked her door. She turned to face him. "Talk to you Thursday then," she said.

He leaned in and pecked her on the cheek. "I can't wait," he said softly, holding the door open so she could get in. Once she was settled, he closed her car door and stepped back, walking to his own car.

Sam stuck the key in the ignition and turned on the engine. She backed out of the space and drove home, whistling under her breath as she walked up her walk, her hand snaking into her pocket to make sure the slip of paper was still there. At this exact moment, Friday could not come fast enough.

Fin


	3. Indications

Indications

By

Denise

Eric parked his car in Sam's drive and turned off the ignition, quickly glancing at his watch. He got out and walked up the short path cursing the funeral on Academy Boulevard that had tied traffic up. Things like this of course, only happened when he was running late.

He'd been on his way out the door at work when the phone had rung, the person on the other end being a gentleman who sometimes sent some freelance work his way. And since he hadn't won the lottery lately, he couldn't exactly just blow his contact off, so he'd had to chat for a few minutes, finally getting the man to agree to a meeting the next morning instead of the 'now' he'd originally wanted.

He and Sam had made this date two weeks ago, and postponed it twice already, once when she'd had to work late and a second time when he got sent to Kansas City to help a station there doing an upgrade on their system.

Climbing the steps to the porch, he rang the bell, frowning at the sight of a couple of envelopes sticking out of Sam's mailbox. Just as he reached in and grabbed them, he heard a car. Turning, he watched her pull into her drive, parking beside his car. "Late only counts if you're last," he muttered, glad that something had finally gone right. He walked down the steps and met her as she got out of her car. "I see being late is contagious," he said, teasing her a bit.

"Eric. Oh God," she said, frowning as she locked her car.

He stepped forward, frowning when he caught sight of a dark smudge on her cheek. "Whoa, what happened?" he asked, reaching out to gently touch the bruise. "Did you have an accident?" He looked towards her car, looking for some dent or sign of a fender bender.

"What? Oh." She raised he right hand and gently explored the bruise. "Umm aah yeah. I aah…I fell. Umm, someone spilled their coffee on the stairs and…" She broke off and shrugged. "My middle name is grace."

He lowered his hand, frowning a bit at the tone of her voice. It rang false somehow, her worse clumsy and seemingly desperately chosen. He studied her closer, noting the shadows under her eyes and the slight slump of her shoulders. She looked like she'd just gone ten rounds with Tyson, and then walked home. "You're lucky you didn't knock yourself out," he said, stepping back so that she could walk into the house. Even though the days were slowly getting longer and the winter had been a mild one, it was still cold outside, some days the temperature barely getting above freezing.

"I'll be fine," she said. "Come on in. It'll just take me a few minutes to change." She opened the front door and led him into the house, quickly flipping through the mail he handed to her.

She set her keys down and turned on a couple of lamps, filling the room with a warm glow. "Do you want something to drink?" she offered.

"I got a better idea," he said. "Why don't you go climb in the tub and take a long hot bath, I'll go grab some Chinese, maybe hit the video store then we can have an evening in."

She shook her head. "You don't have to do that. I can just change my clothes and be ready to go…"

"Hey," he interrupted. "You know how long it's been since I got to veg out on the couch with a beautiful woman." Much to his enjoyment, she blushed, lowering her head. She hated compliments, which made it all the more fun for him to give her some. It was a refreshing change from the last woman he'd dated who'd spent half the evening fishing for them.

"It does sound good to stay in," she admitted after a few seconds.

"Ok," he nodded. He grabbed her shoulders and turned her around, steering her towards the back of the house and the bathroom. "You go, run yourself a tub. And take your time. Have you heard of Chow Wong's?"

"No." She shook her head and looked over her shoulder at him.

"It's a little mom and pop place on the other side of town. Great food, but they cook to order so it takes a while." He gave her a small shove. "I'll be back in about an hour."

She turned to look at him. "I've got a bottle of white zin. I'll stick it in the freezer, should be nice and cold by the time you get back."

"That sounds good. Sesame chicken?" he asked, remembering her favorite.

"Please. And extra crab Rangoon?"

"You got it," he said. "Be back in a bit." He turned and walked out of the house, turning up the collar of his jacket as he got into his car, backing out of the driveway, already thinking of what movie he should look for at Blockbuster.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Sam pulled her t-shirt over her head and looked in the mirror to check her hair. Catching sight of the bruise, she grimaced, leaning in to get a better look. It certainly wasn't the worst bruise she'd ever had, but she also knew that she more than owed Herak one whenever they met up again. "Preferably at the wrong end of a P-90," she muttered, debating whether or not to try and put some foundation on and conceal it.

Then again, that was a bit like fixing the iris after the Jaffa got through; Eric already knew that it was there.

She'd totally forgotten what day of the week it was, an all too familiar side effect of gate travel. If she'd remembered, she'd either have called him on the phone and cancelled, or at least come up with a better excuse. Geez, slipped on spilled coffee…that was lame even for her. At least he seemed to buy it. And she didn't know if that was good or bad.

The doorbell rang and she gave up on the mirror, instead shoving her feet into a pair of sheepskin slippers and hurried down the hall, opening the front door. "Hey."

"Dinner," he said, holding up a couple of bags. "Hope you're hungry."

"Starved," she answered, closing the door behind him. She followed him into the kitchen and took the wine out of the freezer as he emptied the sacks. It took them just a few minutes to dish up their plates and pour the wine into simple glass goblets.

They carried their dinner into the living room and Sam sat down while Eric picked up the Blockbuster sack. "I snagged the last copy of Signs," he said, holding the DVD up triumphantly. "Assuming of course you haven't seen it."

She frowned.  "No, I haven't."

"How could you miss a Mel Gibson movie?" he teased, putting it into the machine.

"Must have been on another planet," she quipped softly, smiling when he chuckled, obviously taking her words for a joke.

He joined her on the couch as she reached for the remote, starting the DVD. "I hope you don't have problems with aliens," he said. "It does get a little spooky at times."

She nearly choked on her wine, struggling to keep a straight face. "I can honestly say I don't have a problem with aliens…. most aliens anyway," she said. "In fact, some of them can be quite cute." She set down her wine and picked up her plate, ignoring his funny look as she settled back next to him to enjoy the movie.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

The movie faded to black and Eric leaned forward, struggling not to disturb a sleeping Sam as he snagged the remote and stopped the DVD, turning off the TV. "Sam?" he said softly, giving her a gentle shake.

Once they'd finished their dinner, both of them had set their plates on the table then she'd snuggled up to him, falling asleep after just a few minutes. She was dozing so soundly that the noise of Merrill whacking stuff with a ball bat didn't even wake her up.

Realizing that she was down for the count and acknowledging that his bladder wasn't going to let him join her, he shifted her weight off his shoulder, sliding out from under her.

He made his way back to the bathroom and finished his business, then walked back into the living room. This hadn't exactly been the most thrilling date he'd ever been on, but it had been fun. As much as he enjoyed going out, he often spent so much of his time in hotels or eating in restaurants, that it felt good to simply sit in front of the TV and relax.

And it felt even better not to be sitting alone.

He stood and watched her, contemplating sliding back onto the couch, or even taking her back into her bedroom and maybe staying with her. They hadn't made love since that first time in the ruins of the church, and while it bothered him a bit, he didn't find it too disturbing. It was kind of enjoyable just to date, to take is slow and see what developed rather than rushing head long into something.

Sam stirred and opened her eyes, sitting up on the couch. She looked past him to the dark TV. "Oh no," she moaned.

"Yeah," he said. "You fell asleep."

"Oh, God. I'm so sorry," she said, self-consciously pushing her hands through her hair.

"That's ok. I guess Mel isn't quite as enthralling as he used to be."

She chuckled a bit. "It's just…It was a really long day," she apologized.

"I should probably go then. I've got to meet someone in the morning anyway," he said.

She got to her feet and walked over to him. "You could stay," she invited.

He frowned a little, studying her closely. Her nap had eased a bit of the shadows under he eyes, erased a little of the tiredness from her face, but she still looked like she needed to sleep for twelve hours or so. "You sure?"

"Yeah," she agreed.

"Ok," he agreed. He bent down and started to clear away the debris of their dinner. She helped him and in a few minutes they'd straightened up, leftovers in the fridge and dishes in the dishwasher.

"You mind if I take a shower?" he asked as they finished up.

She shook her head. "No. Go ahead. There are towels in the closet," she told him. "I'm going to lock up."

"Ok." He walked down the hall, going into the bathroom and quickly finding the clean towels.

She knocked on the door, and then opened it, holding out a pair of pajama bottoms. "They're my dad's," she explained to his raised eyebrow. "He keeps them here for when he visits. He won't mind."

"Thanks," he said, taking the navy blue cotton pants from her.

"There's a spare toothbrush in the medicine cabinet," she said as she closed the door, leaving him alone.

He turned on the water and finished undressing, folding his clothes up since he knew he'd need them in the morning. It took him only a few minutes to shower, grateful to discover that she apparently liked variety, and that one of her bottles of shower gel was a nice unfeminine kind. He really wasn't in the mood to smell like roses or berries.

Drying off, he pulled on the borrowed pajama pants and opened the medicine cabinet, searching out the toothbrush. He found one still in it's wrapper, frowning when his eyes caught sight of a row of brown prescription bottles. Giving into his curiosity, he examined them, noting that they were all painkillers of various kinds and dosages, and spanning a few years, some of them quite old and expired and all prescribed by the same doctor.. He could see that most of the bottles were full, like maybe she'd only taken a dose or two, then not taken anymore.

Curious, but not knowing how or even if to ask, he closed the medicine cabinet and brushed his teeth before opening the door.

He shut off the light and padded back to the bedroom. The lamp was on and he climbed into the bed, sliding in beside her. She was curled up on her side and already half asleep. She reached out and turned off the light, then settled back down. He spooned up behind her and let her even breathing lull him to sleep.

Six hours later his alarm beeped, pulling him from a light doze. He automatically turned it off, wondering for a second where in the hell he was. "Wha?" Sam muttered, stirring.

"I gotta go," he said, pulling away from her. "I have to meet someone. Go back to sleep."

She nodded and rolled over, pulling the covers up over her shoulders.

He slipped out of the bed and grabbed his clothes, making his way into the bathroom. He quickly got dressed, using the toothbrush again, then walked down the hall, trying not to make too much noise.

He reached into the closet and pulled out his coat, cursing as he knocked hers off the hanger as well. He bent down and picked it up, frowning as a pair of cards fluttered to the floor. He picked them up, holding them to the light spilling in through the window to read them. One was Sam's Air force ID card and he smiled at the obviously old picture of her in her dress uniform. It listed her birth date and he noted it, and then looked at the other card.

This one was plain white plastic with a magnetic strip, also carrying her picture. He read it: Cheyenne Mountain Complex, Maj. S. Carter, Security Level One. "Cheyenne Mountain?" he muttered, wondering what she was doing with a pass card to NORAD if she taught at the academy.

Taking a look at his watch, he filed the question away to be dealt with later and returned the cards to her pocket. Slipping on his coat, he unlocked the deadbolt and slipped out into the brisk cold of the early morning.

Grateful that he'd arranged to meet his contact at a local coffee house, he got into his car, waiting a few minutes for it to warm up, before putting his car into gear and backing out of her driveway. He turned up the radio and tuned it to a local news station, wondering if the news would give him a clue about his next assignment.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Sam heard the front door close and Eric's car start. He backed out of the drive and she rolled over, burying her head under the pillows. She sighed contentedly and debated going back to sleep.

They had an official debriefing scheduled for 0900, and it was sure to be a long one, given the significance of events that had played out on Kelowna. General Hammond had let them off easy the night before, settling for the knowledge that the threat from Anubis' ship was now over and that Kelowna was safe, for the time being at least.

Deciding that she'd rather be early than late, she got out of bed, padding into the bathroom. Completing her morning's ablutions, she straightened the house, making the bed and touching up the kitchen.

She left the house, shivering in the chill air. Figuring that Janet had probably been on duty all night caring for the injured Jonas, she hit the bakery, picking up a couple of fresh cinnamon rolls and some coffee.

She arrived at the SGC, making her way through the security check points and into the mountain. Walking into the infirmary she caught sight of Janet, holding up the bakery bag and then walking into the woman's office. She sat down in the chair and took a sip of the coffee, pleased to note that the combination of a Styrofoam cup and the long drive had resulted in the brew being the perfect temperature.

She heard Janet's heels clicking and opened the bag, distributing the sticky rolls. "You read my mind," Janet said, taking a seat in her office chair.

Sam shrugged. "I had an idea you'd be hungry," she answered. "How's Jonas?"

Janet smiled. "He'll be ok," she reassured her. "It was just a glancing blow. He'll be up and around in no time."

"That's good," Sam said, relieved that the doctor's initial diagnosis had been right.

"You know…I drove by your place last night," Janet said softly.

"What?" Sam's heart lurched.

"I had Jonas stabilized and went home. I was too wired to sleep so I thought maybe we could watch the late show or something." She looked up, an inquisitive smile on her face. "The extra car in the driveway suggested to me that maybe I should keep driving."

"Oh," Sam said, grimacing.

"Who is he?" Janet asked, leaning over her desk.

"What makes you think it's a he?" she said, trying to forestall her friend's questions. She knew this day would come eventually, in fact, she was surprised that she'd kept her secret this long.

"The fact that you're blushing," Janet said. "And you won't answer my question."

"His name is Eric," Sam relented. "I met him a few months ago."

"Months? And I'm just now finding this out?" her friend asked, a hurt expression on her face.

"It's not like that," Sam said. "We met once and I thought that was it. Then I bumped into him again a few weeks ago. We've gone on a couple of dates."

"And?"

"And I just wanted to keep him to myself for a while," Sam said sincerely. "Janet, not to mope here, but my track record with guys isn't exactly a good one. I…" She trailed off and sighed, cursing the dark memories that came forth. "The last time I dated a guy that I really liked I ended up leaving him for dead on an alien planet. I'd like to keep Eric as far away from the SGC as possible."

"Ok," Janet agreed after a minute. "You won't be able to keep him a secret forever you know. Eventually the guys are going to want to meet him."

"I know," Sam agreed.  "But they can wait a little while longer."

Fin


	4. Dumb Luck

Dumb Luck

By

Denise

He slipped through the lax security of the base, his thoughts torn between anger at how easy it was and joy that, thus far, his presence had been unchallenged.

This was always the fatal flaw of too much security and a 'need to know' attitude. It increased the chances that a person would just accept and not question something odd.

Squaring his shoulders, he strode down the corridors, taking comfort in their familiarity. He knew where he needed to go, as long as they hadn't moved it. No, they wouldn't. It was too big, too bulky to move.

Using a forged pass card, he accessed the secure wing, his eyes easily noting the presence of surveillance cameras in the darkened corridor. He would not have much time, he knew. The guards would notice his intrusion eventually, and seek to eliminate him.

Seeing the large door at the end of the corridor, he picked up the pace.

'Stop,' Zadok said, sensing a feeling that he hadn't felt for so long.

'What?'

'In there,' he directed.

'No. It's at the end of the hall.' Bert insisted.

'In there!' the voice said more forcefully, exerting control to make his host do what he wanted him to do. His body turned and he stood outside the door. He forced the lock, stepping into the room. The only illumination was a pair of aquarium lights over two large, but heavily shielded tanks. Recognizing the creatures imprisoned, he walked over to them, his eyes fixated on the undulating figures.

'Who are they?"

'Children. I do not know from whom they spawned. Why are they here? They cannot communicate in this form."

'Experimentation. Bioresearch,' his host supplied, drawing upon his own memories of participating in such activities.

"Who are you?" a voice cut through the darkness and he spun, frowning as he saw a man imprisoned in a large steel cage. The bars were open on all sides and he could see the most basic of amenities, a cot and sanitary facilities.

"Kree Jaffa. Who do you serve?" Zadok demanded, moving to stand in front of the cage, but staying out of reach of the occupant. He studied the man closely, seeing signs of a lengthy imprisonment in his pale, haggard face, the way the Tau'ri clothing hung on his frame.

"Release me," the Jaffa demanded.

'No. It cannot be.' Zadok stared at the tattoo on the man's forehead, barely visible in the pale blue light.

'What?'

'He is gone, banished.'

'Who?'

"Where is your lord?" The Jaffa stared at him, his eyes narrowing as he crossed his arms across his chest. "Tell me, I command you!"

"Release me and I shall take you to him," he bargained.

'He is not on this planet. We would have heard tales of his greatness.'

'Who's not on this planet?'

'Leave this hassock. He is kek.'

'He can help us," Bert insisted.

'He will hinder us. We must attain our goal.' He turned, abandoning the Jaffa in the cage and turning a deaf ear to the man's words as he called for help. Only the weak would beg in such a fashion. That act alone convinced him that he was right to abandon the Jaffa. He needed allies, not burdens.

They left the room, returning to their original goal of the double doors at the end of the hall. Behind them, they could hear the Jaffa still yelling and they ran, briefly regretting not killing the man.

Just as they opened the door, alarms began to sound and Bert cursed under his breath. He closed the doors and pulled a desk in front of them to delay the pursuers. "No," he said as he turned, his eyes seeing nothing but empty space.

'Where is it?'

'I don't know. It's supposed to be here.'

'It is not here,' Zadok said, unable to hide his frustration with his host's continued ineptness.

'They must have moved it then.'

Zadok cursed, rage racing through him as he realized that his goal was once again slipping from his grasp. Seven years. For seven years he'd been trying to find a way off this cursed planet and back to his brethren among the stars.

In the beginning when he'd first sought refuge in the body of his host he'd been too young to exert control upon him. He'd spent the next couple of years struggling to survive. Forced to blend before his time, he lacked not only the ability to control, but to also sustain himself efficiently in the hostile environment of a host. Time and again over the next few years, he'd found himself under attack from the host's body, years of trials that he knew had weakened him.

He'd survived by using the man's body against him, building up layers of scar tissue to protect him from the antibodies of his host. That survival came at a price. He was now imprisoned in his host's body, unable to exert complete and total control all the time and likely unable to ever leave this body and survive.

His only hope was to get off this planet and seek more of his own kind, and hopefully find help in leaving this body and finding a newer, better host.

He was careful to keep those plans from Bert, however. His host knew that he wished to leave Earth, but had no knowledge of what his fate would be once that goal was attained.

'Where would they move it to?' Zadok asked, trying to remain calm as he cursed himself for his mistakes. Perhaps he should have revealed himself to his host earlier. Maybe that would have kept the man from making the errors he'd made, the greatest of which had been when he'd come into contact with the Tok'ra and been exposed as a goa'uld.

That revelation was why they were now outcasts, hunted and chased. His inability to leave his host meant that he could not seek a newer, unrecognized face. And it also prevented them from using any means of mass transit and that they had to limit their contact with other humans. Which was why it had taken them nearly three years to make their way to Russia, seeking to use the stargate there to get off-world.

They'd missed their opportunity, arriving mere weeks after the base had been dismantled and the stargate packed away, buried so deeply that no one knew where it was.

And so they'd turned around, abandoning Russia and seeking to return to the United States and the stargate there.

'The SGC maybe? Maybe something happened to their gate and they needed it,' Bert suggested.

He heard a noise in the hall and Zadok knew that they were out of time. His eyes scanning the room, they settled on a couple of items sitting out on a work table. Unable to believe his good luck, he hurried over, gladly picking up the alien device.

'What is it?'

'A weapon. One that is far superior to your guns,' Zadok said, sliding his host's hand into the device. Even though he had never used the ribbon weapon, he knew how to use it, the knowledge a gift to him from his ancestors. He shoved the other item on the table into his pocket and turned to face the doors, his arm at the ready.

The door burst open and he activated it, the force pushing the surprised guards off their feet. They crumpled to the floor and he hurried past them, making his way out of the building.

He heard a sharp crack and was thrown to his knees, a searing pain cutting through his back. He forced himself up, pushing the pain away in his desperation to escape. He got outside and ran into their parked car, the doors hanging open. He drew upon his host's knowledge, getting into the vehicle and putting it into gear. He drove quickly through the base and left the facility, the fact that he was thought to be one of the security force no doubt aiding his progress.

Driving off into the desert night, he turned off the car's headlights and manipulated his host's eyes to better see in the darkness, all thoughts of leaving Earth temporarily put aside in his desperate struggle to survive.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"I need to go," Sam said, despite her words, remaining where she was, leaning against Eric's side.

"It's early," he protested as the credits rolled on the movie they were watching.

"Yeah," she agreed, sighing as she sat up. "But I have an early lecture."

"You do?"

"Yeah, 0800," she confirmed, gently pushing away and getting to her feet. She felt for and slipped her feet into her sandals, stretching a bit to relieve the stiff muscles in her back.

Not in the mood to go out, they'd decided to have a night in, ordering a pizza and watching a movie on pay-per-view. They'd been doing this a lot over the past six months, their dating moving from dinner in a restaurant to evenings in, alternating between his and her place. They took turns cooking or ordering in, taking time to get more comfortable around each other.

She still felt guilty lying to him so much, her hectic mission schedule of late leading to some creative stories on her behalf. Fortunately his job demanded some odd hours and frequent travel as well, so they were nearly even on cancellations.

"I thought school was out," he said, getting to his feet.

"A lecturer's work is never done," she said, shooting him a smile, wishing for a minute that she'd come up with something better for her cover story. Then again, she hadn't exactly been looking to set things up for the long term at the time. "How about tomorrow night?" she suggested as he escorted her to the door. "Maybe a movie?"

"The mall on a Friday night?" he asked, raising his eyebrows. "Do you have a death wish?"

Sam laughed. "Not lately. League of Extraordinary Gentlemen opens tomorrow."

"Aah." He nodded. "That Sean Connery fetish of yours."

Sam shot him a devilish look. "Of course," she said, slipping into a bad Scottish accent.

"Sure, sounds good," he said, opening the door for her. "Give you a call about six?"

"I'll talk to you then," she said, leaning in to give him a slow kiss. "Good night."

"Night," he said, returning the kiss then standing back, watching her make her way down the flight of steps from his second floor apartment to the parking lot below.

She got in her car, seeing him close the door as soon as he saw that she was safely ensconced in the silver Volvo. She put her car in gear and backed out of the space, making her way into traffic and towards her own house.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

The next morning, Sam walked into the briefing room, not surprised to find Teal'c already seated at the large, oak table.

She nodded good morning, and then made her way to the credenza, pouring a glass of water before taking her seat, setting her folder down in front of her. This briefing should be rather short, she thought. They weren't scheduled to ship out to P3Y834 for another two days. Which would give her plenty of time to come up with some story to tell Eric. Unless the fates decided to be truly kind and he'd get sent on a business trip as well.

"Major Carter," Teal'c acknowledged.

"Teal'c. Sleep well?" she asked conversationally. Although he'd never be called a chatter, she knew that he was working on learning more 'small talk'.

"I did," he answered. "I have noticed that you have not been working as many hours as you once did," he said after a second.

"What?"

"It used to be quite common to discover you working in your laboratory until quite late in the night. Now there are many such nights when you depart the SGC before even Colonel O'Neill."

Sam stared at him, surprised that he'd even noticed. She had been going home earlier in the last few months, largely because she had a reason to go home.

Her work hadn't suffered, she'd made sure of that, and there had been more than one occasion when she'd had to stay late, not to mention the odd overnight mission. All in all, she'd thought she'd done a pretty good job of juggling everything, although it shouldn't have surprised her that Teal'c had noticed. He was usually the most observant among them now that Jonas was gone. She'd have to tell him, she knew. Tell all of them.

She'd just been putting it off after telling Janet, justifying her decision with the fact that she didn't know how things were going to work out. And why open herself to uncomfortable explanations if they broke up.

Then as the months went on, she'd meant to invite Eric to the colonel's annual Memorial Day picnic, which was cancelled by a mission. Then the General's Fourth of July party that she'd went to alone after Eric had been called away at the last minute to do something at a station in Alaska of all places.

Now she knew she couldn't put it off much longer. The months were adding up and she needed to introduce Eric to the other men in her life, or there would be some very hurt feelings all around.

"Really?" she asked. "Has aah, has anyone else noticed?"

He stared at her for a second, and then turned his head just as General Hammond's office door opened. Almost on cue, the colonel and Daniel walked into the briefing room and Sam got to her feet, smiling at the general.

"As you were, people," he said. The rest of her team took their seats and the general sat down, his expression grave. "I'm afraid your mission to P3Y834 has been reassigned," he said, handing O'Neill a folder.

"Why, sir?" Jack asked.

"Last night, at approximately 0145, there was a security breach at Area 51."

"I don't see why that's our problem," Daniel said.

"It is because of the nature of the breach," Hammond said. "Last year, Teal'c and Jonas captured three Jaffa off a Hatak ship in Earth's orbit. Those three men were sent to Area 51 for study and interrogation. All of but one of them has since died, their symbiotes matured and lacking a replacement, they perished."

"Couldn't they do the tretonin thing like they did for Teal'c and Bra'tac?" Daniel asked.

Hammond shook his head. "They refused the drug. And since we have extremely limited quantities, the decision was made to preserve our supply for Teal'c and the other renegade Jaffa that wish it."

"What about the breach, sir?" Jack asked.

"Someone attempted to free the last Jaffa, and take custody of the two symbiotes," the general reported. "The attempt failed, all he managed to get away with is a ribbon device and a healing device."

"Is not Area 51 a high security area?" Teal'c asked.

"Yes," Hammond answered. "However, the scientists working on the two devices thought that three locked doors were enough of a deterrent. And the assailant used an Air Force uniform to gain admittance."

"It doesn't make any sense," Sam said. "Both of those things are worthless to anyone that doesn't have or has had a symbiote. Unless it's some reporter trying to make a name for themselves."

"Or a goa'uld," Jack said, causing the others to turn their heads.

"Samuels," Sam said flatly, remembering all too well their past two run-ins with the former Air Force officer.

"I'm afraid so," Hammond confirmed. He pulled pictures out of his folder and handed them out. "The security cameras got a good picture of him. He's changed a bit, but is still recognizable."

Sam studied the 8x10 print out of a digital picture. It was taken in a hall of one of the buildings of Area 51, obviously at night. It was a bit grainy but she could still make out the features on the man's face.

His hair was longer, slightly more so than regulation, and his facial hair was definitely not up to par. He was dressed in an Air Force uniform, although, unless her imagination was playing tricks on her, it was a decidedly ill-fitting one.

"I thought he'd conveniently dropped off the face of the Earth," Jack said, not bothering to hide his dislike of the man. Sam knew a lot of that had to do with her. The last time Samuels had surfaced had been to use a nurse assigned to the SGC for some research, and Sam as the subject. She'd nearly died from the drug the woman had injected her with, technically did die enough that she ended up on the autopsy table. That little run-in had left her with a scar on her shoulder and a near phobia of anything medical, one that even years later, she hadn't quite been able to shake. To this day, she refused to go down to the level the morgue was on.

"It appears we haven't been that lucky," Hammond said.

"I don't get it," Daniel said. "It's been years, why resurface now? And why break into Area 51? Isn't that sort of like robbing a donut shop?"

"Lieutenant Colonel Samuels' goal has always been to gain control of the SGC," Teal'c said.

"Or the stargate," Sam said.

"What?"

"Colonel, what's the one thing a goa'uld trapped on Earth would want?"

"To go home," Daniel answered.

"Right. And if he's been as out of the loop as we think he has, he wouldn't know that we don't have a spare stargate anymore. Or even if he did, he could be trying to infiltrate the SGC via Area 51. I mean, we transfer stuff back and forth all the time. And since Area 51 is a secure facility, it could be easy to smuggle something from there to here," Sam said.

"Unless he has some backing that my sources aren't aware of, he's totally alone," Hammond said. "The NID's just as interested with catching him as we are."

"Well, if he wants to get off-world, he'll have to come here," Daniel said. "Unless there's a third stargate somewhere that no one's noticed."

"We want to be pro-active on this. The simple fact that he's now armed with classified weapons eliminates our choice to wait and see," the general said. "We have evidence that places Samuels in or near Las Vegas so our theory is that he'll be making his way from there to here. Our plan is to capture and if necessary, neutralize him as soon as possible. I don't think I need to tell you that his very existence is a security risk, made worse by the weapons he's carrying and his possible desperation to get off Earth."

"It won't be easy to track someone over that kind of distance, sir," Jack said. "Hell, as long as he doesn't use a credit card, he won't leave a track."

"And it's not like we can put out an APB and plaster his face all over America's Most Wanted," Sam said.

"We do have one ace in the hole," Hammond said. "I just got off the phone with the CIA. They have a satellite that is capable of detecting radiation from space, it was used to spy on other countries, and probably still is," he said, muttering at the end. "The point is, naquadah exhibits a very distinctive radioactive signature."

"The amount of naquadah in a person's blood is negligible," Teal'c said.

"But not when you combine it with the ribbon device and the healing stone," Sam spoke up.

"That's what we're hoping," Hammond finished. "The problem is, the satellite is only over head for a few minutes each day, and the data needs to be analyzed, so we won't have the ability to track him in real time."

"But we should get a daily update," Jack said.

"That's what we're hoping," Hammond confirmed. "I've made arrangements for transportation to Area 51. The plane will leave in three hours. Since this will be an undercover operation, you're to be in civilian clothes and try to keep as low of a profile as possible," he warned, shooting them a glare.

"Yes, sir," Jack acknowledged. Hammond got to his feet and they followed suit, watching him make his way back into his office. Jack looked at his watch. "Three hours puts the plane leaving at 1100. Carter, Daniel, why don't we go pack. Teal'c, you pack too. We'll meet back here at 1000, check out our weapons and get to Peterson."

"Yes, sir," Sam answered. Making an allowance for traffic, she figured she had to leave the mountain in less than an hour to have time to pack and return. Barely enough time to shut down the experiments she had running. At least she couldn't ever call her job boring.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Eric opened the door to his apartment, cursing softly as he struggled to juggle the take out dinner and some other groceries he'd picked up. He knew he was being a bit presumptuous but he was pretty sure that Sam would agree to his plans, grabbing dinner at home then catching the movie. He put the food down and moved towards his answering machine, whistling between his teeth and he crossed the room. The red light was flashing and he hoped that it was a message from Sam, especially if she'd gotten the little surprise he'd ordered earlier this morning.

She wasn't one for romantic gestures, which made it all the more fun for him. They got along well in that respect, neither of them being the type to enjoy clubbing or hitting the bars. In fact, they both seemed to prefer quiet time alone with each other, usually watching TV or checking out some of the area's natural wonders like Garden of the Gods or the Royal Gorge Bridge. They'd even gone to Cripple Creek a couple of weeks ago, spending the evening visiting the casinos and walking up and down the main street.

Pressing the button on his machine he rolled his eyes as he listened to a couple of telemarketers and hang-ups.  Finally he heard the voice he was waiting for.

Eric, I'm sorry, something came up at work. I've got to take a trip out of town and…well I don't know how long it'll be, probably a few days. I'll give you a call when I can. Sorry about tonight.

Listening to the machine rewind the tape, he made a face and sighed. Well, there went his plans up in smoke. And not a mention of his surprise, which also meant that it was a waste.

Slightly dejected, he went into the kitchen intent upon putting the groceries away. Oh well, he thought, at least he'd have dinner and lunch…and maybe breakfast if he was in a really odd mood.

The phone rang and he went back into the living room, snagging the cordless receiver from between the couch cushions. "Anderson."

"Look who's home," a familiar voice said.

He silently groaned, plopping down on the couch. "Whit, I am not in the mood," he groused.

"We got a lead on  our runner," his contact said.

"Like your last 'lead'" Eric shot back. "Do you know that it's still snowing in Siberia in July?"

"This one's rock solid. We've got visual confirmation. I've got a courier on the way over right now. He's got the information and your plane ticket."

"Whitlow, has it ever occurred to you that  maybe I'm tired of being at your beck and call?" Eric groused. "That I just might have something else to do other than sitting around the house, waiting for the phone to ring?"

"You going soft on me?" Whitlow asked.

"No."

"Eric, I'd assign it to someone else, but you've been on this case for the past couple of years. I thought you'd want to finish it."

"I do," Eric said. "I just…I want to take a break after this one," he requested.

"You sure? You're not gonna get bored hanging out in the mountains, playing with the bears?"

"Bears are more fun than humans," Eric shot back.

"Ok," Whitlow agreed. "You bag this one, and I'll lose your number for a while," he promised.

"Thanks," Eric said. "I'll call you when I get there." He hung up the phone and tossed it beside him on the couch. Sighing he leaned back, his eyes catching the still full sacks. Now why the hell couldn't Whitlow have called BEFORE he bought groceries.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Zadok heard the distant sound of an helicopter and crouched down, trying to maintain as low of a profile as possible. He cursed his host's choice of uniform, the blue color not adequate camouflage for the browns and tans of the desert, even after he'd coated the material liberally with dirt and dust.

They'd abandoned the vehicle within miles of the base, once they'd realized that it was easily tracked in the open territory and set off afoot, the darkness of the night aiding their flight.

Now the sun had risen providing a dual obstacle of making them more visible and weakening his host with its oppressive warmth. Zadok knew that they had mere hours to escape this desert or his host would be too weak to continue.

The sound faded and he got to his feet, his host struggling and stumbling, weakened by the physical injury. The guard had shot them, fortunately the bullet had passed through the flesh of his host's side, producing a non-fatal but no less painful and draining injury.

His weakness was augmented by his lack of ability to fully control and heal his host, the most he was capable of doing to deaden the pain and  try to stave off infection.

His host was not fighting him at the moment, instead cowering in the corner of his mind, curled up like a small child. He'd been afraid of this happening, of his host being unable to withstand the privilege of being one with a god.

Some humans were not suitable hosts, and this one seemed to be one of those weak creatures.

'God?' Bert asked softly, acknowledging the physical world for the first time in hours.

'Yes, I am a god,' Zadok said.

'I saw gods once. They were so beautiful, big and powerful.'

'Where did you see gods?' Zadok asked, intrigued. His host had always told him that Earth lacked physical gods.

'They were pretty and white, they sang to me, danced for me,' Bert remembered, his body relaxing with the familiar and obviously pleasant memories.

'Where were they?' Zadok asked gently, knowing from past experience if he pushed his host too hard, the man would retreat totally.

'There,' he said, directing his eyes towards the battered green and white sign. 'They live in Las Vegas.'

'Then we shall go there,' Zadok said, forcing his host to his feet. He would go to these gods, throw himself upon their mercy and seek rescue from the untenable position he now found himself in.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Jack dropped his luggage off in his office and headed towards the briefing room, belated remembering the one thing he forgot to tell his people, where to meet. He knew they were somewhere in the facility, he'd recognized both Carter's and Daniel's cars in the lot as he'd parked his truck.

Feeling slightly out of place in his khakis and leather jacket, he summoned the elevator, riding it down to level twenty-seven. Whistling between his teeth, he walked into the briefing room, the voices of the rest of his team telling him that they'd had the same idea about a meeting place.

"Wow, Sam. Those are gorgeous," he heard Daniel say.

"I have not known you to receive such a gift before," Teal'c said.

"How did they get down here?" Jack walked into the room as Daniel asked his question, pausing for a moment at the unfamiliar sight of his team standing there, all admiring a large bouquet of fresh flowers that were sitting on the table.

"They were delivered to the Air Force Academy. General Kerrigan was nice enough to have them sent over here," Sam said, opening a small envelope.

"Got a secret admirer, Carter?" Jack teased.

"No, sir. Not quite," she answered, quickly reading the envelope and shoving it into her pocket. He could see that she was embarrassed, her cheeks were flushed and she looked slightly uncomfortable.

Glancing at his watch, he fought the urge to tease her further, they needed to be at Peterson in less than an hour. "You don't have enough time to run those home before we have to leave," he said. "And I doubt Hammond would like a centerpiece."

"I can take them down to my lab, sir. I need to get my luggage anyway," she said.

Jack nodded. "Hammond's got us a staff car. Let's meet up top in fifteen."

Sam picked up her flowers and left the room. Jack, Daniel and Teal'c followed her to the elevators, sharing a look at the amused and interested glances from the personnel they passed. The SGC grapevine was going to be buzzing in a few minutes. Hell, if he'd have known they'd get this much enjoyment out of a mysterious bouquet of flowers, he'd have sent some years ago, just to be ornery.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Sam stepped off the airplane, automatically reaching for her sunglasses in her jacket pocket and taking a deep breath of the dry desert air. Thanks to the vagarities of time zones, they'd actually arrived in Nevada about the same time they'd left Colorado. And Nevada in late July was definitely not a place for shrinking violets, or those that couldn't take bake oven heat.

She saw Jack stop at her side, his eyes too shrouded by dark glasses. "I see Area 51's up to its usual level of coordination," he groused, meaning the lack of the promised vehicle to meet them. "I'm gonna go check at the hanger," he said, setting down his luggage.

"Yes, sir," Sam answered, watching him walk away. She turned to see Daniel and Teal'c also deplaning. She set her bag down beside Jack's and stepped away a bit, pulling her cell phone from her pocket. She dialed Eric's number, still not sure if she should thank him or give him hell for wasting his money.

The flowers were absolutely gorgeous, and a total surprise. She honestly couldn't remember the last time someone had sent her flowers, she just regretted that not only had it taken extraordinary measures on General Kerrigan's behalf to get them to her, but also if the good general hadn't interfered, she may have never gotten them.

As beautiful as they were, they also stood for the lies that were between them. Lies and secrets that were so much a part of her life that she didn't know if she'd ever get away from them.

They were the same secrets that had nearly cost her father his life and, prior to his cancer, only served to be a convenient excuse not to attempt to breach the differences between them.

She heard his voice and opened her mouth to talk, only to snap it shut when she realized she'd gotten his answering machine. Waiting until the end of his greeting she glanced over, grimacing at the sight of the colonel walking back from the hanger, a car in the distance speaking to his success at solving the transportation issue. Realizing that she was nearly out of time, she impatiently waited for the tone. "Eric, hi. I'm sorry I missed you. I got your flowers, they're absolutely lovely. Thank you." The car pulled to a stop and the colonel waved impatiently. "I gotta go. I'll call you later on." She hung up the phone and hurried forward as Teal'c picked up her luggage and stowed it in the trunk.

Grateful that the driver had at least turned on the air conditioning, she slid into the back seat. Knowing that the driver likely knew nothing about why they were here, she let the boys carry the small talk and  contented herself with looking out the window as the desert flashed by.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Eric checked his watch and sighed loudly, taking no small measure of satisfaction when the secretary looked up, giving him an uncomfortable look. It'd been like this for the past two hours, ever since he arrived at the base and been shown into the general's office, only to find, instead of the welcome he'd expected, a distinctly cold, star-clad shoulder.

He guessed there was some sort of clearance issue and he'd tried to call Whitlow to clear it up, only to find more frustration when his contact was out of contact. Damn the military and their obsessive need for secrecy. This crap was exactly why he'd gotten out of the army.

This whole thing frustrated him to no end. He'd spent the better part of the last three years on the trail of a traitor, following the man across the Russian continent, nearly catching up with him a couple of times, but never quite being able to take him into custody before he vanished again, slipping into the faceless world of the homeless and downtrodden.

If it wasn't for the fact that he had an annoying need to finish what he'd started, he'd just write the man off. Yes, he'd went AWOL and defected, but there was no sign that he'd made contact with anyone, pretty much eliminating the speculation that the man was a spy and making it look more like he was simply an officer who'd snapped and decided to leave the Air Force without bothering to fill out the right form in triplicate.

Reaching the limit of his patience, he got to his feet. To hell with this. He'd go find a hotel and contact Whitlow. Maybe he'd come back tomorrow, if Whitlow could promise that he'd actually get in to talk to the good general.

The office door opened and he stood back, watching a tall, lanky man walk into the room, trailed by two other and…Sam?

"Colonel Jack O'Neill. We've got a meeting with General Martinson."

"Yes, sir. He's expecting you," the receptionist said.

"Sam?" Eric asked, stepping forward.

She turned, her eyes going wide as they focused on him. "Eric? What are…I thought you were in Colorado," she stuttered.

"Obviously not," he said, looking at her appraisingly. She and the others were in their civvies. Not how folks usually dressed when the visited other bases. Her companions were a mixed bunch. Colonel O'Neill was an older man, a fact confirmed by his salt and pepper hair. Tall and thin and with an air about him that spoke not only of command, but also of an officer who'd put in no small amount of time in active service and probably combat.

Standing behind him was a large black man, his ball cap pulled low on his forehead, in blatant disregard to normal etiquette. Eric could see hardy muscles under his leather jacket and his very demeanor spoke of quiet danger and silent strength.

The third man had a different image, capable and intelligent, but not as physically intimidating as the black man.

"Carter?" O'Neill asked, stepping forward. "Friend of yours?"

"Sir." She glanced at him, discomfort plain on her face. "This is Eric, Eric Anderson. I aah, I know him from the Springs."

"Really?" the colonel said, frowning. He looked Eric from head to toe, blatantly studying him. Refusing to be intimidated, Eric met his gaze, staring him down.

"Sir, the general will see you now," the receptionist said, breaking the eye contact.

"Thank you, Lieutenant," O'Neill said, looking away. The quartet moved towards the door to the general's office and Eric followed them, stopping short when the lieutenant stood up.

"Only them, sir," she said apologetically. Sam shot him an apologetic look as she followed the three men into the general's office.

The door closed behind them and Eric sat back down, crossing his arms across his chest as he stared at the closed door, his frustration growing by the minute.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Any idea where he's headed?" the colonel asked, his sharp look pulling Sam's thoughts from the man outside and to the one in front of her. General Martinson was a portly man, his slightly florid face and the near arctic temperature of his office hinting that he definitely wasn't in Nevada for his health.

"Unless he had a death wish, he headed towards Vegas," the general said. "There's nothing out here but gilas, rattlers and rocks."

"He'd be able to blend right in with the tourists," Daniel said.

"Yeah. And if he needed money, he could just roll one. A drunk tourist with a pocket full of cash is an easy victim."

"I still don't understand why he bothered with the Jaffa," Daniel said. "He could have made it out clean if he hadn't have taken the time to chat."

"He likely sought an ally," Teal'c said. "A potential First Prime to be employed as a body guard."

"Or even host," Sam said, feeling that she really needed to contribute to the conversation.

"Like K'Tano," Jack said.

"Yes, sir."

"It's possible," Martinson said. "All the Jaffa would tell us is that he asked Samuels to help him escape and that Samuels refused."

"Forging an alliance would be a most efficient way to gain intelligence," Teal'c agreed.

"You said they'd been a prisoner for over a year," Daniel reminded.

"Samuals' goa'uld has been out of touch for seven," Sam countered. "A little advantage is better than none."

Jack looked at his watch. "We've got about two hours until the satellite is in position," he said. "Hopefully it'll give us a clue."

"We'll give you whatever backup we can," the general promised, his willingness to help no doubt aided by the embarrassment of his facility being breached. "But aah, bear in mind, the local PD's a little touchy about us stepping on their turf."

"We'll remember. Thanks," Jack said.

The general stood up, signaling the end of the meeting. "If my men were right, they think they winged him, so maybe that'll slow him down for you. I do have teams combing the desert. If he's out there, we'll find him."

"Sir, a goa'uld has more endurance than a normal human. If the injury was minor enough, it could be healed by now," Sam said.

"Well, regardless, I hope you catch him," the general said.

"We do too, sir," Jack said. "We've got a score to two to settle with the good colonel.

We'll let you know what happens," he promised, shaking the man's hand.

"And I'll do the same," Martinson promised.

Sam followed her team from the room, not surprised to find Eric still in the waiting room.

He gave her an odd look, then started to walk past them, obviously still intent on talking to the general.

"Sir, I'm sorry. The general is in the middle of an important phone call," the lieutenant said, deliberately pulling the door shut.

"There's a big surprise," Eric quipped, his tone anything but cheerful. He knew he was being stonewalled, anyone with half a brain could figure that one out.

The rest of SG-1 filed out of the office and Sam paused in the doorway, torn between following her team or finding out what he was doing here.

"Carter? You coming?" Jack asked.

"Yes, sir."

"Sam, wait," Eric said, stepping towards her. "We should talk."

"Yeah," she agreed. "But not here."

"Why not here?" he countered. "You're here, I'm here. General Martinson has been ignoring me for two hours…what's a little longer?"

"Two hours?" she asked. "You've been here for two hours?"

"At least."

"And you flew commercial I would imagine."

"So?"

"So, were you going to tell me you went to Nevada before or after you stood me up in…three hours?" she asked softly, keeping her voice low. So that's what the flowers had been, a 'gee, I'm gonna blow you off' gesture. And what kind of lies were he going to tell her this time? How many times had he lied to her in the past? How many of his business trips did he really go on?

"Sam—"

"Excuse me, sir. The general will see you now," the lieutenant interrupted. Eric shot her a startled look, then turned back to Sam.

"It's really not a good thing to keep generals waiting," she said, turning on her heel and walking out of the room, not even acknowledging Jack as she walked by him.

She could see Daniel and Teal'c down at the end of the hall and she deliberately took a few calming breaths. She could hear the colonel's footsteps coming up behind her and she slowed a bit, waiting for him to fall into step beside her. She knew he'd say something and figured that she might as well get it out of the way before they rejoined the others and she had even more questions to answer.

"Umm…tell me to butt out if this is none of my business but…"

"Butt out, sir, please," she interrupted. "I apologize for what happened in there. It won't happen again."

"There's nothing to apologize for, at least I don't think so. Who is he?"

She stopped walking, running her hand through her hair. "A friend." He raised his eyebrow. "A good friend," she clarified.

"Mister Flowers good friend?"

"Yes, sir," she answered, cursing the slight flush she could feel staining her cheeks.

"Ya know," he said after a second. "Technically you stood him up too."

Sam shook her head. "I called before we left."

"And he didn't?"

"And he left before we did."

"You don't know that."

"Unless he's invented a time machine, if he's been here two hours then he had to have left Colorado two hours before we did," she countered, not willing to let the argument go.

Jack sighed. "Hammond'll be contacting us with the satellite report pretty soon," he said, changing the subject. "Why don't we go find some food before then?"

Sam nodded and they continued down the hall, meeting up with Daniel and Teal'c, before they left Area 51 and headed towards Las Vegas.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Zadok coldly stripped the clothing off the unconscious man and stood up, scanning to see if he'd been observed. They'd been most fortunate in encountering a solitary driver, and even more fortunate that the man was the type to stop and give aid to bedraggled strangers. Foolish weaklings like him deserved to perish.

He dressed, after using a first aid kit he'd found in the man's trunk to dress the gunshot wound on his host's side. Getting into the stolen car, he drove off, the city visible upon the horizon. And attainable goal now that he had a means of conveyance.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Daniel scooted his chair in, allowing Teal'c to get out behind him and head to the buffet for the fifth time. In contrast, Sam was still working half-heartedly on her first plate of food. He looked to Jack who shrugged slightly, either having no idea what was wrong with their friend, or not in the mood to share his knowledge.

"I'm gonna go check in with Hammond," Jack said. "We should be getting that report pretty soon." He got to his feet. "Don't let Teal'c eat them out of house and home," he said. "I'll be back."

He left them alone and Daniel fiddled a bit, glancing at Teal'c who was still filling his plate. "I met him before, didn't I?" he asked, startling Sam a bit.

"What?"

"We ran into him in Manitou."

"Yeah," she said, abandoning her pretense at eating.

"How long have you been seeing him?"

"We, aah, we met last September, when we saw him in Manitou, that was the first I'd seen of him since then," she confessed, the flush on her face telling him that this Eric guy wasn't just a casual acquaintance.

"Good for you," he said.

"What?" she asked him, clearly surprised.

"Hey, it's not like we expect you to be a nun or something," he said, kind of enjoying the embarrassed look on her face. "I am surprised that you didn't say anything, though," he said as Teal'c sat back down, his plate heaped with items from the dessert bar.

Sam shrugged. "At first, I didn't want to say anything. We only met once so…what was the big deal," she said, seemingly growing more comfortable with discussing it.

"This is the reason you do not labor ceaselessly in your laboratory?" Teal'c asked, taking a large bite of a rice krispy bar.

Sam shrugged. "You didn't know he was going to be here," Daniel said, figuring out the reason for the tension.

Sam shook her head. "No. I thought he was still in Colorado. And I have no idea what he's doing talking to the commanding officer of Area 51," she admitted.

"Neither does Hammond," Jack said, startling all of them. They'd been so engrossed in their conversation that they hadn't noticed him returning to the restaurant. He reclaimed his seat, scooting in so they could talk quietly. "Whoever your friend is, he's got pull. Martinson's been ordered to tell him about Samuels."

"Everything?" Daniel asked.

"Not quite," Jack answered. "Everything but the little parasite issue." He turned to Sam. "Carter…what do you know about this guy?"

"Jack," Daniel protested.

"Daniel, it's ok," Sam said. "As far as I knew, he designed software for TV stations. I don't know what interest he could have in Samuels."

"We need to know," Jack said seriously.

"Colonel?"

"He's hunting a snakehead, Carter. We need to know if it's just a coincidence or if he's involved in something he shouldn't be."

"Sir, I don't even know where he is," Sam protested.

Jack pulled a slip of paper out of his pocket. "He left contact info with Martinson. It's about two blocks down the strip." He handed the paper to Sam. "Do you want one of us to go with you?"

"No, sir. I'll be fine," she said, getting to her feet.

Daniel watched her leave then turned back to Jack. "That's not fair, Jack," he said.

"Daniel?"

"You're using her."

"He could have used her first," he said.

"Jack."

"Daniel, I don't want it to be true," he said earnestly. "But the simple fact that he knows her, and he's showed up here, with the same objective as us, is a little fishy."

Daniel shook his head. "I don't think so. Sam said she's been seeing him for almost a year."

"Which is about how long Conrad tried to get her medical information before he took matters into his own hand," Jack said.

"Your gut is wrong this time," he insisted. "I don't know what he's doing here but I think his relationship is just a coincidence."

"I hope you're right," Jack said.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Eric lay back on the hard bed and pulled one of the thin pillows up to cushion his head. He grabbed the remote and changed the channels on the TV, trying to find something to entertain him, and to take his mind off the events of the day.

He still didn't know what in the hell she was doing in Nevada. He'd tried to get information from General Martinson, but had hit a three starred brick wall. Evidentially,  the general had finally gotten a hold of Whitlow and gotten the clearance to tell Eric about Samuels, but the man hadn't told him anything more than he already knew, that the Lt. Colonel had breached security then run… with no indication as to why he'd risked capture.

He picked up his cell phone and stared at it. If he knew Sam, she had it with her. He should call her, find out where she was, and find out what she was doing here. His phone rang and he dropped it, cursing as it bounced across the carpet.

He fumbled for it, trying to pick it up and answer it before it went into voice mail. "Hello?" he said, his voice more harsh than he'd intended.

"Eric?"

"Sam," he said, recognizing her voice.

"Yeah. I aah, I was wondering if I could come up?"

"You're downstairs?" he asked, instinctively getting to his feet and going towards the window, as if he could actually see her. How had she found him? There were hundreds of hotels in Vegas? And he wasn't in one of the casino hotels, but a small national chain.

"Yeah. I umm…unless you'd rather come down and maybe we could go for a walk or something," she suggested.

"I'm in 532," he said, sensing that whatever they were going to talk about, it was something not quite suited for public display.

"Ok, I'll be there in a couple of minutes."

He hung up his phone and quickly looked over his room, his unease at the impending conversation making him feel like he needed to straighten the already tidy room.

In a couple of minutes, there was a knock at the door and he opened it. "Hey," he said.

"Hey." She stood there, one hand clutching her wrist in front of her. "Can I—" she nodded and he stepped back, letting her walk into the room.

He closed the door behind her and stood there for a second, watching as she walked across the room, looking out the window. "Nice view," she quipped, talking in the construction zone across the street. In a couple of years he knew the view from the room would be yet another fantastical casino.

"Yeah, well, not here for the view."

"Why are you here?" she asked bluntly, turning to face him.

"Who wants to know," he shot back. "You or your CO?"

"Both," she said honestly.

"I'm working."

"I'm not up on Area 51, but I don't think they're starting their own TV station," she said.

"Sam—"

"Eric," she interrupted. "I need to know what you're doing here."

He crossed his arms across his chest. "Or what? Gonna sic your friends on me? Or is it now a Federal Offense to visit an old friend?"

"You're not visiting an old friend," she said. "What's your interest in Lieutenant Colonel Samuels?" she asked.

"Ex-Lieutenant Colonel," he corrected. "I would say that after three years of being AWOL, his career is pretty much over."

"Why are you looking for him?" she insisted.

"Why are YOU looking for him?" he countered.

"I asked first," she shot back.

"I was here first."

"Damnit Eric," she cursed, raising her voice.  "You have no idea what you're getting into!"

"Why don't you tell me."

"It's classified."

"Oh that's convenient," he said sarcastically.

"Maybe a lot of things have been convenient," she said bitterly.

"What are you talking about?"

"Did you follow me or was it just luck that you bumped into me last year?" she challenged.

"What?"

"Who are you working for? Zetatron? The NID?" she asked. "Was sleeping with me part of your assignment or just a fringe benefit?"

He stared at her for a moment, shocked by the hurt and bitterness in her eyes. She wasn't just being dramatic, she honestly believed her accusations. "I'm an independent contractor," he said softly. "My assignment  is to find Albert Samuels and return him to the Air Force to face charges of desertion and possibly treason. I've been looking for him on and off for a couple of years. My source had a report putting him at Area 51, which is why I was there," he said.

She stared at him for a minute, her eyes narrowed and appraising, like she was trying to determine if he was telling the truth. "I don't know who Zetatron is, but I don't work for the NID," he said. "What do you know about him?" he asked.

"More than you do," she shot back cryptically.

"That's what I'm trying to figure out. How does a lecturer from the Air Force Academy end up chasing down a deserter?"

"It's my job."

"And this is my job," he replied, his voice just as angry as hers.

"Eric, you have no idea what you're dealing with," she warned.

"Then tell me," he demanded.

"I can't."

"And I can't just let him go. I have a job to do, and unless you can give me a damned good reason why, I'm gonna do it."

She stared at him for a few more seconds, then crossed the room, coming to stand right in front of him. "Leave Samuels be," she warned. "You're messing with things that you have no idea about."

"I can take care of myself," he said, frowning at her warning.

"I hope so," she said, staring at him for a second before she turned on her heel and walked out of his room, closing the door quietly behind her.

He stared at the closed door for a minute before sitting down on the bed, her words echoing through his brain. What in the hell was she so worried about?

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Sam walked down the strip, not noticing the fading warmth of the afternoon sun, or the throngs of gawking tourists around her. Instead, her mind was centered on the man she'd just left, and all the things he'd told her. Independent contractor. What the hell did that mean? What was he, some sort of mercenary? And who was he? Was Eric even his real name? Or was that a lie too?

Someone bumped into her and she turned, her hand instinctively reaching for her cell phone and wallet, the warnings about pickpockets still fresh in her mind.

Finding her possessions safe, she frowned as another feeling crept down her spine. Feeling her heart lurch, she fought the urge to reach for her gun as she scanned the crowd, looking for a familiar face. He was here. She could sense him, feel his presence.

Her eyes skittered from face to face trying to recognize the Lieutenant Colonel she'd last seen in person five years ago.

If he was still in Samuels and hadn't hopped hosts in the past few hours of course. Her cell phone trilled and she jumped, reaching for it as her eyes continued to scan. "Carter," she said.

"Carter, you ok?" she heard Jack ask.

"Sir?"

"It's been two hours. We were just….getting a little concerned."

"Really? Yeah, um, everything's fine," she said absently, cursing internally as she realized that the feeling was gone, he'd slipped back into the crowd.

"Can you get back to the hotel?" he asked. "Hammond finally sent us the information."

"Yes, sir," she said, hanging up the phone. He wasn't the only one with a story to tell.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"You're saying you sensed him?" Daniel asked as his friend sat down cross-legged on the bed. They'd booked a room in one of the small motels not for a place to sleep, but to have somewhere private to discuss things.

"Unless there's another goa'uld running around Las Vegas, yes," she confirmed.

"Maybe there's some truth to those rumors about Wayne Newton," Jack quipped, claiming one of the chairs. "The bad news is, Carter's spider-sense might be all we have to go on."

"Is the satellite image not performing to expected levels?" Teal'c asked.

"Depends on what we expected. It picked up a naquadah signature in South Las Vegas, but it's not more specific than that."

"So, no exact location?" Sam asked.

"No," Jack confirmed. "Where were you when you picked him up?"

"Outside the Mirage."

"That's South Las Vegas," Daniel said.

"Perhaps he is attempting to gain access to the airport?" Teal'c suggested.

"They've been put on alert," Jack said. "Same with the bus and train depots."

"What's our plan, sir?" Sam asked.

"Well, we can hang around and wait for any word of a man with glowing eyes." Daniel shot Jack a glare. "Yeah. I think the best thing we can do right now is to canvas the hotels, see if their security guys can help us out."

"There are thousands of tourists out there, Jack. It'll be like a needle in a hay stack."

"A needle in many haystacks, Daniel Jackson," Teal'c corrected.

"Well, we know that as of an hour ago, he was still in town," Jack said, nodding towards Sam. "I think the best thing is for us to pound the pavement. If Carter sensed him, chances are he picked up on her too. We gotta get him before he tries something radical.

We'll go casino by casino, starting at the Mirage. Daniel and I will check in with security. Carter, you and Teal'c do a walk through, see if you can get a bead on him."

"Yes, sir," Sam agreed, as Teal'c nodded.

"What about Eric?" Daniel asked.

"I don't know what kind of information he has," Sam said. "He thinks he's tracking down a deserter."

"Will he get in our way?" Jack asked.

Sam paused for a second. "Yeah," she said. "Sir, the only thing I could tell him that might convince him to stop, is the one thing I can't tell him. He's having a hard enough time buying that a lecturer at the Academy is searching for an AWOL officer."

"Lecturer?" Daniel asked, raising his eyebrows at her flimsy cover story.

Sam shrugged. "It was a good idea at the time."

"OK," Jack said, the expression on his face telling them that while he wasn't too fond of how things were playing out, he also recognized that there wasn't too much he could do about it. "Las Vegas is a big city. Let's just hope he stays out of our way."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Teal'c walked beside Sam, his eyes scanning the teeming crowd. It was early evening in the casino and the crowd was growing by the minute as more and more of the local work force sought the gambling establishments for entertainment. He knew that the crowd would likely continue to increase throughout the evening, something that would make their task even harder.

It was moments like this when he deeply regretted the loss of his symbiote. Without its presence, he was unable to sense the proximity of another goa'uld, leaving that burden resting solely on Major Carter's shoulders.

He could see that she was trying. There was a slight frown between her brows as she struggled to push herself, to force her ability to its very limits.  "I'm starting to think this is a bad idea," she said, pausing beside a large bank of gambling machines. "If I sensed him, he had to have picked up on me. If he was smart, he high-tailed it out of town."

"If he was wise, he would never have allowed himself to be seen," Teal'c said. A flash of movement caught his eyes and he turned, watching as an inebriated female lost her balance and stumbled. She caught herself on a stool, then took a moment to regain her equilibrium. A handful of coins spilled out of the large cup she was carrying and skittered across the carpet. "Perhaps he sought something different," Teal'c said, drawing Sam's attention to the woman. She staggered off, oblivious to the fact that a few bystanders were happily collecting her discarded winnings.

"An easy mark?" Sam asked. "Maybe. But with as many tourists that are around here, he's got no shortage of a new host. All he needs to do is borrow someone's identity and hop on a plane."

"I do not believe a new host is his goal," Teal'c said softly. "He could have attained that any time in the past three years."

"Good point," she agreed. "Let's make one more pass before we meet back up with the colonel and Daniel." She continued making her way through the casino and he followed, ignoring the raucous jangle of the machines that seemed to mock the seriousness of their search.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Zadok walked through the groups of revelers jointly disgusted and amazed at what he was seeing. These were the Tau'ri? This was the home world that his kind only spoke of in myth and legend?

These people were no threat,  he thought, staring at the teeming mass of gaudily clad men, women and children. They wouldn't be good workers, most of them looked too soft to do any sort of manual labor.

He had been many places on the planet and this was by far the most frivolous. The desolation of Russia and many of the places he'd been had been during his internment here had been expected. It spoke of a wealth of resources and a lack of people, making it easier to subjugate the planet.

He felt his disgust grow as he walked, striving to pull any helpful information from his host's mind. During the past few hours, his host had continued to retreat, his mind withdrawing into childhood memories.

It was from those memories that Zadok sought to glean further information about the gods his host spoke of. He could see fragments of images of smiling figures and echoing voices. There was a court here, a place where the gods lived and held audiences for their worshippers. A court of high colonnades and elegant fixtures. A place of echoing grandeur and stately elegance.

He would seek assistance from these gods, if he could find them. His host's memories were fragmented and faded, like trying to read a shattered tablet or a broken crystal. He had not been to this town in many years and his recollection was quite different than what he was seeing now. Buildings were gone or had changed, others seemed to have moved, something Zadok blamed on the extreme passage of time, the human mind being nowhere near as refined as his own.

He walked past a mock volcano and stopped, his eyes fixated on the vision before him. He ignored the irritated words and outbursts from the people around him. 'Is that it?' Receiving no response from his host, he prodded him. 'Is that it!' he demanded. Feeling an affirmative response from Bert, Zadok started walking again, his eyes taking in the grandeur of his surroundings, the pristine white statues among the manicured greenery and glistening fountains.

It was an oasis of peace and dignity in the tawdry bustle of the rest of the city. This was a place for a god to live.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Eric walked down the Strip, his stomach full from a trip through one of the town's many buffets. This whole trip was a waste. Yes, he'd gotten a bead on Samuels, yes, he had confirmation that the man was back in the states and evidentially interested in the Air Force again. But beyond that, unless he did something to draw attention to himself again, the ex-Lieutenant Colonel was gone, vanished into the anonymity of the human population.

It was time for him to check in with the local PD one last time then go home. Oddly enough, he felt none of his normal eagerness at the idea. He didn't want to go home, not when his usual reason for going home was right here in Las Vegas.

What was she doing here? And who exactly were her friends? They sure didn't look like any teachers he'd ever seen. Well, maybe the one man, but not the colonel  and definitely not the black guy. Those two looked more like body guards or bouncers than teachers.

They were looking for Samuels, it had to be. That was the only reasonable explanation for them being in Las Vegas, and the easy with which they'd gotten in to see General Martinson.

Which suggested to him that she was something far more than just a lecturer. She'd lied to him, from the very beginning most if not all, of what she'd told him had been a lie. Or maybe not. What if she was like him? Not a mercenary, but…classified. That's what she'd tossed up in his face when he'd tried to talk to her. Her life was classified. And Whitlow had his fingers in more classified pies than Eric could count. Maybe it was about time to call in a couple of markers.

He reached for his cell phone, his hand stopping mid action as his eyes caught sight of a figure making its way up the wide walk leading to Caesar's Palace. Son of a bitch.

Not quite sure if he was seeing things, he stared for a second, then reached for his pocket, pulling out the folded picture Martinson had given him. His eyes darted back and forth, comparing the two images. It was him.

Filled with eagerness at having his quarry within his grasp, he quickly looked both ways and jay-walked across the street, jogging up the walk to keep the man in sight, careful not to get too close and spook him.

So intent was he upon his goal that he failed to notice the people who recognized and followed him into the casino.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Sam followed the rest of her team into the casino, jogging slightly to keep Eric in sight. "I'm gonna go let security in on what's going down," Jack said. "Carter, Teal'c, keep him in sight. Let's try not to make a scene. Daniel, you're with me."

The two men split off and Sam and Teal'c continued on their way, struggling to navigate through the crowds of oblivious people while not drawing too much attention to themselves. "We've got to get him away from these people," Sam said. "The last thing we need is civilian casualties."

"Agreed," Teal'c said.

Much to their relief, Samuels seemed to want to avoid the crowds as much as they wanted him to. He made a bee line through the casino and into the Forum shopping center that was attached to the casino.

The mall was slightly less busy than the casino, and definitely quieter, the clang of the slot machines was replaced by the muttering of elevator music and the chatter of the ambling shoppers.

Afraid to lose sight of them, Sam picked up the pace, only slowing when Teal'c put a restraining hand on her arm. "You must maintain your distance, Major Carter or your presence will alert Lieutenant Colonel Samuels that we are surveying him."

Acknowledging the wisdom of his words, she slowed, craning her neck to keep sight of Eric's plaid shirt. Samuels was walking forward, totally ignoring the crowds around him, reminding her of a man on drugs, suffering from a tunnel vision that blinded him to all but his goals.

A shrill alarm cut through the air and Sam looked to Teal'c as a calm voice began to announce the evacuation of the shopping center. "It's gotta be the colonel," she said, ignoring the instructions and instead moving with her friend as they closed ranks around the fugitive. The other shoppers were filing out of the mall, their own panic and fear blinding them to the quartet that were ignoring the instructions from the loud speaker.

Samuels was standing in front of one of the large fountains, staring up at the animatronics statues. She could see Eric moving closer, his hand going to the small of his back as he drew a pistol. Drawing her own gun, she crept closer, the absence of a crowd hampering her own attempt at stealth.

Samuels turned, a look of utter desperation on his face. Eric drew his gun and she heard him challenge Samuels. Almost in slow motion, she saw Samuels raise his hand, an unseen ribbon device glinting dully in the muted light of the mall. "No!" she yelled as Samuels fired his weapon, throwing Eric across the mall. He crashed into a heavy bench and slumped to the marble floor.

Enraged, she aimed and fired, one shot striking Samuels as Teal'c tackled him from the side, both men crashing to the ground. She heard running footsteps and saw the colonel and Daniel out of the corner of her eye, both running forward. Trusting them to cover Teal'c, she lowered her gun and rushed forward, kneeling at Eric's side.

He was unconscious, blood trickling from the corner of his mouth. Her fingers fumbled for his pulse, relaxing a bit when she found it faint but steady.

She looked over her shoulder, seeing Teal'c and the colonel take off at a run, chasing Samuels as the goa'uld broke free with an unearthly roar. She started to get up, then stopped as she felt Eric stir. Daniel stared after his two teammates, then turned and made his way back to her. "Sam? Is he ok?"

"I think he's just unconscious," she said, eyeing the two security guards that were headed her way. She reached down and picked up Eric's gun, slipping it to Daniel. "We need some medical assistance here!" she called out, secreting her own weapon away. One of the approaching guards acknowledged him and reached for his radio.

"Should we go help Jack and Teal'c?" Daniel asked.

Sam shook her head. "There's no way we'll catch up to them now. We need to know what he saw," she said softly, stepping back so the paramedics could get to Eric.

"Are you going to follow him to the hospital?"

"Yeah," Sam replied.

"I'll go with you," he offered.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Zadok ran through the cavernous halls of the structure, pushing his host's body to it's very limit and beyond. Fool. He was such a fool. Damn his host. Damn his faulty Tau'ri memory. He should have known better, should have known that there was no way a god would go unnoticed, even on this primitive planet.

The heavy footsteps of the Jaffa pounded behind him and he tried to run faster, tried to escape. No. They couldn't do this. He couldn't let them catch him. They'd take him away, lock him up. Lock him up in a cage. No. Not when he was so close. So close to going home. That's all he wanted, to go home. To take his rightful place among his brethren, to travel among the stars, to rule, to live.

The red letters of a sign beckoned him and he ran faster, spurred on by his desperation. Exit, outside. He had to get outside. Outside was freedom, he needed to get free. So close, he could see it so close. Just a little bit more. All he needed was to run a little faster, stay ahead for just a few more seconds. Then he could be free. He needed to stay free. Freedom was life, he had to stay alive.

A heavy weight slammed into him, pushing him to the ground with a bruising force. Trapped inside a non-responsive body, he screamed, fear, desperation, terror overwhelming him, crippling him. Trapped in a morass of inaction, he could do nothing but be a silent witness to his own condemnation.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Jack walked into the hospital, following Daniel's instructions by memory. All in all, they'd been lucky. Martinson may have had problems with the locals, but, so far, Jack hadn't. Of course, Martinson also didn't quite have the red phone connections that Hammond had either.

Jack still wasn't quite sure if the security people from the casino bought the story he'd spun, but they were smart enough not to question too much, so it appeared that he didn't have to worry about a security leak from the casino's end.

Now all he needed to do was find out about Carter's friend. So far, Hammond hadn't been able to dig up too much on the man, the commonness of his name not helping the search. He really wanted the whole thing to be some sort of coincidence. Maybe the guy was legit and was just a bounty hunter or something like that. For Carter's sake, he hoped so.

After asking a couple of nurses for directions, he found Carter and Daniel in the waiting room outside of the emergency department. "Sir," she said, moving to get to her feet.

Jack waved her back down. "You two ok?"

"Yeah, we're fine," Daniel said. "Samuels?"

"Teal'c's got him. We're taking him back to Area 51. How's your friend?" he asked Sam.

"I don't know. They won't tell us anything," she said.

"It's dumb luck he wasn't killed," Daniel said.

"How much do you think he saw?" Jack asked softly after looking around to make sure no one was within ear shot. Fortunately the waiting room was mostly deserted, despite it being relatively late on a Friday night.

"Samuels threw him across the room with a hand device," Daniel said. "So he saw at least that much."

"Or thinks he saw," Jack said. "He hit his head, who knows if his memories are accurate."

"General Hammond needs to know what he knows, doesn't he?" Sam asked, her voice resigned.

"Yeah," Jack said, deciding not to tell her that Hammond was also digging into the man's past. If everything turned up clean, there was no need to tell her what they were doing. If not…then he'd deal with it later. No need to add insult to injury.

"They won't let me in to see him," Sam said. "Family only."

The large double door opened and Jack looked in, seeing the topic of their discussion standing beside a doctor at a large counter. "Looks like someone needs a ride," he said, nodding towards the doors. He got to his feet, pulling the keys to the car out of his pocket. He tossed them towards Sam who caught them reflexively. "Car's in the garage, level 4. Daniel and I will catch a cab."

"We will?"

"Take your time," Jack said, ignoring Daniel. "Plane's not leaving until 0900." She shoved the small ring of keys into her pocket and walked away, making a bee line towards Eric and the doctor.

"He's not gonna get to keep Samuels, is he?" Daniel  asked.

Jack shook his head. "No."

"I don't think he's going to take that very well."

"He won't." Jack started walking, leading Daniel out of the waiting room and towards the outside door.

"Whoever's paying him isn't going to take it very well either."

"We're sorta counting on that," Jack said cryptically, pulling his cell phone out of his pocket. Daniel listened as he called Area 51 and summoned another staff car to replace the one he'd just loaned to Sam. He hung up his phone and found a bench, sitting down with a sigh.

"I thought we were getting a cab?"

"I'm not paying for the ride out to Nellis."

"Why are we going to Nellis?"

"Teal'c is there. He delivered Samuels. We gotta go get him then we can go back to the hotel."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Eric followed the doctor out of the exam room, groaning softly as bruised and abused muscles made their presence known. He was definitely getting too old for this crap. And to make matters worse, he didn't even get Samuels.

He heard heels clicking on the tile floor and looked over, frowning when he saw Sam walking towards him. He rolled his eyes, fighting the urge to turn and walk away from her. Of course, if he didn't hang around and fill out the forms the ER doc was getting out for him, he could end up stuck here for lord only knew how long.

"If  you experience any of the symptoms on this list, you should come back," the doctor said, handing him a sheet of paper.

"Yeah," Eric said, taking it and shoving it into his pocket. This certainly wasn't the first concussion he'd ever had.

"You shouldn't drive either," the doctor warned. "I can have the nurse call you a cab."

"I can give him a ride," Sam said, coming to stand by his side.

The doctor frowned, then shrugged, obviously happy to be handing over responsibility for his patient. "Give these to the nurse and you're free to go," he said, giving Eric one last piece of paper. 

He took it and shot Sam a look, deliberately not talking to her as he followed the doctor's instructions, making his way to the nurse. He finished the paperwork and signed himself out, still pretending that Sam wasn't standing at his side.

"The car's this way," she said, shepherding him towards the parking garage.

"My hotel's just a few blocks away."

"Then it won't take us long to get there," she said, refusing to accept his excuses. He gave in, following her as she made her way to the parking garage and found the Air Force issued car.

"Where is he?" he asked as she got into the car and stuck the key in the ignition.

"Who?"

"No more games," he requested. "Where's Samuels?"

"In custody," she answered, putting the car into gear and backing out of the space.

"Whose custody?"

"The United State's Air Force."

He snorted. "Yeah, right."

"I'm not lying," she said.

Eric sighed, squinting as they drove out of the garage, the bright neons of the Strip setting off the lingering headache he'd had since waking up fully in the ambulance. "What do you really do?" he asked her.

"I really do lecture," she said. "But not all the time," she said, glancing at him. "I work in Cheyenne Mountain. Analysis of Deep Space Radar Telemetry."

"Why didn't you tell me that before?"

"Lecturer sounds better?" she suggested.

"What do you want with Samuels?"

"He used to be stationed at Cheyenne Mountain. That's why we were trying to catch him, he was one of our own."

He stared at her, trying to see if he could determine if she was telling the truth this time. Samuels had been at Cheyenne Mountain, that much he knew, but that had been years ago. If she'd served with him…or maybe it was the Colonel who'd served with him and she was just helping out a friend.

"So, you aah, you remember anything?" she asked, glancing at him again as she navigated the heavy traffic.

"About?"

"Before you got knocked out," she reminded.

"Oh," he said.

"HOLD IT!" he yelled, pulling his weapon. He saw Samuels  turn, the man's eyes narrowing, almost seeming to glow.  "Don't move. There's nowhere to go."

_"Hataka," Samuels growled, his voice resonating oddly. He raised his left hand and Eric's finger tensed on the trigger, relaxing a bit when he didn't see the telltale ebony glint of a weapon. "I will not be a prisoner," he said as his palm glowed. A heavy force slammed into his chest as two gunshots echoed sharply off the marble walls. He saw Samuels stagger as he landed with a sickening crack and felt the world go black around the edges as he struggled to breathe. _

_He heard footsteps and voices as he felt cool fingers at his throat. "Sam? Is he ok?"_

_"I think he's just unconscious," he heard Sam say. What was she doing here? And where was Samuels? "We need some medical assistance here!" she called out, the noise making him cringe. _

_"Should we go help Jack and Teal'c?" a man asked, he had to be one of her friends. _

_"There's no way we'll catch up to them now. We need to know what he saw," she said softly, as he felt her move away from him, her presence replaced by the impersonal touches of paramedics. _

She needed to know what he saw. What had he seen? What did Samuels have in his hand? That was no normal weapon, it was like nothing he'd ever seen before. And his voice…something about his voice chilled him to the bone. It was…almost other worldly like something out of a horror movie. "I don't remember a thing," he said, schooling his face as he looked her in the eyes.

"Really?"

He shrugged. "I thought I'd been shot at first. I have no idea what happened. One minute I was yelling for Samuels to stop, the next I was waking up in the ambulance," he lied, watching her face as she processed his words.

"That's gotta be spooky," she said.

He shrugged. "Doesn't sound like I missed much."

"What?"

"You guys caught Samuels, cleared it with casino security I'm assuming. What more is there to have seen?"

"Right, nothing more to have seen. Pretty boring actually. You've seen one arrest, you've seen them all," she said, her voice artificially bright as they pulled up outside his hotel.

"I may need to sic my CO on your CO," he said, reaching for the door handle.

"Huh?" She shot him a startled look.

"My orders were to bust Samuels, I can't do that now. Your boss may need to tell my boss why I can't do that."

"Yeah, right. I can, I can do that. Umm, just let me know who your CO is and I'll have him call him. That's no problem. It's not your fault about what happened."

"I'll call you," he said, getting out of the car and stepping away.

He heard her put the car into park and her door open. "Eric?" He turned back. "Do you want me to come up? I mean you probably shouldn't be alone or…."

"I'm fine," he said, wanting anything but to be alone with her any longer. It'd be easier for both of them. She wouldn't have to keep making up stories, and he wouldn't have to keep pretending to believe them. "I'll call you when I get back to Colorado," he dismissed, turning his back and walking into the hotel.

Fighting the urge to turn back and see if she'd left yet, he kept walking, pushing the elevator button with far more force than was necessary. Maybe it was a good thing that they'd gotten Samuels in custody. He wouldn't have the distraction now that he had a new mystery to solve.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Sam tiredly trudged up her walk, a combination of a trying couple of days and jet lag making her feel like she'd just finished a ten mile hike, with a full pack. As it turned out, the colonel had been wrong, they hadn't returned to Colorado the next morning like he'd thought. Instead General Hammond had wanted Colonel O'Neill to perform the preliminary interrogation on Samuels and determine exactly how badly the SGC had been compromised, obviously either not trusting General Martinson to do it, or afraid that once the ex-Lieutenant Colonel vanished into the shadows of the NID, he'd never be seen again.

For some strange reason, General Martinson didn't take too kindly to them hanging around, seeming to resent the implication that the security of his base was found to be lacking and that he wasn't trusted to conduct the interrogation himself.

After six rather tense and uncomfortable hours, she'd been ready to hijack the plane herself just to get away from it all.

The colonel had finally been satisified, sharing with them on the plane that Samuels was 'fruitier than a nutcake' and that his goa'uld, Zadok, wasn't much better. Five hours, one turbulent flight and one debriefing later, she was finally home, nearly twenty-four hours after the showdown at the Forum. And nearly twenty-four hours since she'd heard from Eric.

She'd tried to call him this morning before they'd headed out to Nellis to question Samuels, but had discovered that he'd checked out of his hotel and he wasn't answering his cell phone either. She'd left him a voice mail and thought she'd been playing it cool, until Daniel noticed her checking her own voice mail every hour on the hour hoping for some message.

Maybe she should have run by his apartment on her way home, made sure that he'd made it home ok and that he was feeling  ok. He had taken a hard knock on the head last night. Or maybe not. What kind of reception would she face? The way he'd acted in Vegas, she half expected to never hear from him again.

Her eyes caught sight of a small box on her stoop and she walked up the steps, bending over to pick it up. She gathered her mail and unlocked the door, automatically turning on the hall light.

Dismissing most of the mail as junk or bills, she made her way into the living room, sitting down on the couch. She opened the box, pulling aside a small pad of cotton to reveal a familiar round shape. She picked up the golden coin and held it in her hand, running her fingers over its smooth surface as she remembered the first time she'd seen it.

_He laughed and walked in the other direction, stopping and kneeling down. "Well, whatta ya know?" Eric said, picking something up and brushing the dust off of it._

_"What have you got?" she asked, moving towards him._

_"Old Spanish coin," he said, tossing it to her. "Worth a pretty penny if that's what I think it is."_

_She studied the coin, trying to decipher the faded writing. "It's gold," she said. "I have no idea how old it is, but I have a friend that might know." She tossed it back to him. "He's no archaeologist, but one hell of a quick study. And persistent. He'll wear the internet out until he finds out who that is."_

_Eric tossed it back to her. "Ask him them."_

_She caught it, looking down at the glittering coin in her hand. "This is yours."_

_He moved towards her, standing just a couple of feet away. "If you have it, then I have a good excuse to call you," he said softly._

Smiling slightly, she set the coin back into its box and got up from the sofa. Suddenly a little less tired, she made her way back to the bathroom, a tub of steaming water beckoning her forward.

Fin


	5. Picnics and Puzzles

Picnics and Puzzles

By

Denise

Jack slowly made his way up the long, steep flight of steps that led to the temple, glancing over his shoulder to see Teal'c still standing watch at the end of the clearing. They were in the middle of one of those oh so boring missions, a simple planetary survey complicated by the existence of some crumbling ruins.

A couple of years ago, he would have complained about being assigned a milk run, would have dreaded spending the day on an alien planet, listening to Carter prattle, Daniel enthuse, and himself snore. Not anymore. Right now, it sorta felt good to explore for the sake of exploring.

These milk runs were the best of both worlds, pun intended. They could explore, rack up the frequent gater miles and still be home in time for a casual dinner in front of the TV.

The planet itself was rather boring. The temple and gate were located on a large plateau on the side of a mountain, three sides consisting of sharp drop-offs and the fourth a nearly sheer cliff-face going up a few hundred feet. This made it a strategically safe place to be, as long as hundreds of jaffa didn't inexplicable decide to invade this deserted planet through the Stargate and trap them.

"I've been hanging around Jacob too long," he muttered, shaking his head to banish the defeatist thoughts.

He walked inside the shadowy recesses of the ancient structure, using the echoing voices of his teammates to guide his way.

"You said this was only going to take a couple of hours," he heard Carter say.

"I did…but that was before I got a good look at these carvings. Sam, this is a totally new language."

"I'm happy for you," she said. "How long?"

"How long what?"

"How long until we're done?"

"Sam, this is a new language," he said slowly. "It could take me years to figure out the syntax and translate it."

"We're due to go home in an hour," she said.

"Yeah, that won't be long enough."

"Daniel, you don't get it. We're due to go home in an hour, three hours after that, which is barely enough time to clear medical, debrief and change, I have somewhere to be."

"Sam, you can't just turn on the universal translat……wait a minute, you have somewhere to be?"

"Daniel—"

"Three hours from now….that's aah, that's eight o'clock. Where on Earth could you be going at eight o'clock on a Monday night?"

"Daniel—" she said again, her tone changing from irritation to warning.

"You've got a date," he accused. Jack peered around a corner in the temple, catching sight of the pair of them standing by a wall.

"It doesn't matter what I have. We're due back in less than an hour," she persisted.

"That won't be enough time. This is a fantastic discovery. In fact, I really should contact Earth and bring a team back. This could be very important. We should really get it translated as quickly as possible."

"Do you see this?" she asked, lifting her weapon from where it was hanging from her chest.

"Yeah."

"If we're not on our way home in an hour, I'm going to use it…on you."

Daniel stared for a few seconds, clearly taken aback. "Well, aah you know, it might be best if we came back later.  I mean, this temple has been here for millennia, another day won't make a difference."

"I'm glad you see things my way," she said, smiling. "What can I do to help you pack?"

Chuckling softly to himself, Jack stepped out into the open. "Hey, kids. How's it going?"

Sam looked up. "Sir, Daniel was just getting ready to pack it in," she said, shooting him a look.

"Really?" Jack asked, stepping forward.

"Oh yeah, just about done," Daniel said.

"Mmmhm." Jack nodded, walking past them and running his fingers over the wall. "You know, this doesn't look familiar," he said. "Any idea what it says, Daniel?"

"Umm, aah, no, not really, I aah, I hadn't umm, really, umm…no, no idea," he stuttered.

Jack frowned, looking at Carter through the corner of his eye. She was gonna blow any second now.  "Well, isn't that what we're here for?" Jack asked. "To translate stuff."

"Yeah, we are but, it can wait, Jack. It doesn't look that important."

"Are you sure? I mean, this little squiggle looks really important to me."

"Jack, I…"

"Sir, it is going to be dark soon," Sam said. "We don't have enough supplies to stay the night."

Right on time. "Come on, Carter. You're going to let a little discomfort get in the way of some great scientific discovery?"

"No, sir. Wouldn't dream of it," she said, carefully schooling her face.

Thoroughly enjoying himself, but unable to keep it up any longer, he relented. "Relax, Carter. We'll have you home in time to do your nails before you go," he said, walking past her and patting her on the shoulder. "Pack it in, kids. Let's blow this popsicle stand," he shot over his shoulder as he left the room.

He heard Daniel laugh, the sound broken off by the sound of flesh hitting flesh. "Ow. Why'd you do that?"

"Because I can't hit him," she said.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Sam helped Daniel cram his camcorder into his pack and held it up so he could clip it onto his vest. "So, what are you doing?" he asked, looking over his shoulder.

"It's Eric's birthday. We're going to go out to dinner."

"Cool. I aah…I didn't know you two were still seeing each other."

"We didn't, for a while." She shrugged. "We finally agreed that we weren't going to talk about work."

"And that works?" he asked, following her outside.

"Most of the time," she said, frowning internally at her memories of the 'rest of the time'. She started to descend the steep stone steps.  It had actually taken them weeks to reach the compromise of work being a forbidden subject. It hadn't been easy at first; both of them were stinging from their respective betrayals.

Even though he said he wasn't, she knew his ego was still stinging from them taking Samuels away from him. And she knew that she still doubted his motives, despite his reassurances to the contrary. It had taken a huge fight to finally clear the air, honest words yelled in anger that made them realize that they had two choices, accept the limitations wrought by their mutual jobs, or break it off.

Their compromise was still new, they'd only started seeing each other again a month ago, which is one reason she really didn't want to break their date.

"So, what'd you get him?" Daniel asked, causing her to turn her head.

"What?"

"Did you get him anything…or are you going to be late tomorrow morning?" he asked, grinning impishly.

"You are cruising for a bruising, Jackson," she said, lunging to deliver a playful whap. Her boot came down on a loose step and she wavered, her balance thrown off. Yelping in shock, she barely had time to comprehend Daniel's shocked face before she tumbled down the stairs.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Janet looked up, shaking her head slightly as three men walked into the room. It was about time. She'd expected them at least half an hour ago. "Doc?" Jack asked.

"She's fine, guys," she reassured. "A sprained ankle and a bump on the head."

"Is that a technical diagnosis?" Jack teased, his mood noticeably lightening with the good prognosis.

"It's the one I won't have to explain to you," she teased back.

"She's really ok?" Daniel asked. "She was unconscious for a little bit."

Janet nodded. "Which is why I'm keeping her overnight.  Unless there's some complication, I'll release her in the morning and you guys can have fun trying to keep her on her crutches until that ankle heals."

"Oh man," Daniel groaned.

"What?"

"Her plans, tonight," he reminded.

"Major Carter had plans for her off hours?" Teal'c asked.

"Yeah," Jack said.  "Don't know with whom though."

"It's Eric," Daniel said.

"It is?"

"I was not aware that they were still…timing?"

"Dating," Daniel corrected. "You know, someone should tell him."

"Why?"

"Because it's rude to stand someone up," Janet said.

Jack shrugged. "What's the big deal? Give Carter the phone and have her call him."

"She's asleep, Colonel, and likely will be for a few more hours."

Jack sighed. "I'll do it," he said, the look on his face telling her that he'd much rather be doing something else, anything else.

"You will?" Daniel asked.

"O'Neill?"

"Colonel?"

"What? It's not like Teal'c's gonna go, and you're still on duty," he said to Janet.

"I could…"

"No, Daniel. Look, what's the big deal? Ten to one, he was picking her up. I'll stop by her place, wait for him, send him on his merry way; they can take a rain check."

Janet looked to Daniel who did nothing more than to shrug helplessly.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Eric parked his car, glancing at the clock on the dashboard before he turned off the ignition. Not bad, only five minutes late. He got out of the car and started to make his way up the walk, frowning as he caught sight of Colonel O'Neill sitting on her stoop. A quick glance showed that her house was dark. "What's wrong? Where's Sam?" he asked as the colonel got to his feet.

"She's ok, just had a little close encounter with some stairs," he said.

"Well, where is she?" Eric asked.

"She's in the base infirmary…where you can't go," he said as Eric started to turn around.

"What?"

"Doc's probably going to cut her loose in the morning. I imagine she'll give you a call when she gets home." He started to walk past him.

"Why can't I go see her?" Eric asked.

The colonel turned. "Excuse me?"

"Why can't I go see her?" he repeated.

"There's this nifty little thing called classified," he said.

"What's classified? Cheyenne Mountain? Got a news flash for ya, everyone knows it's there," Eric said, his irritation getting the best of him.

O'Neill walked back towards him. "You know, I would think an ex-Army Ranger would know a little something about classified and the need to keep one's mouth shut," he said, his voice low.

"So you did run my record," he said, wishing he was surprised. Hell, after their run-in in Las Vegas, he came home half expecting to find a dark sedan parked down the street from his apartment and his phone tapped.

O'Neill shrugged. "Not me personally…I hate computers."

"How much have you told Sam?"

"Nothing."

"Right."

"She doesn't even know," O'Neill said. "And she's not gonna know. Look, what's between you two, is between you two.  It's not my concern. It becomes my concern if it starts to affect her job."

"Is that a threat?" Eric asked, bristling at the man's tone.

O'Neill shook his head. "I don't waste time with threats." He turned on his heel. "Like I said, she'll be home tomorrow. I'm sure she'll give you a call," he tossed over his shoulder as he walked back down the path.

Eric watched him climb up into a large green truck and drive away; maybe gunning the engine a little more than was wise.

He stood there for a few minutes, feeling incredibly stupid standing in the gathering dark on the stoop of an empty house. He finally made his way back to his car and got in, driving off at a more sedate pace than the colonel.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Sam barely waited for Daniel to put his car into park before she was opening the car door, still trying to figure out how to get herself and her crutches out of the car at the same time. "I'll get them," he offered, solving her dilemma.

"Thanks," she said, concentrating on getting out of the car, balancing on her good, right foot. Oh god, she was sore. She knew she had bruises all over, some of them bad enough that Janet had been slightly concerned.

Fortunately, her pack had taken a good portion of the fall although she did have a lovely goose egg on her head.

Right now, she wanted nothing more than a nice, long, hot bath to ease some of her stiff muscles and to curl up in bed for a day or two.

"Here," Daniel said, holding her crutches out to her. She smiled her thanks and put them under her arms, quickly finding her balance. "You know, Janet said you probably shouldn't be alone," he said, grabbing her bag and walking behind her.

"Daniel, I'll be fine," she said, really not wanting to have him around. It wasn't that she didn't appreciate his offer, but that she just wanted to be alone to wallow in her misery, instead of feeling guilty at not playing hostess or at keeping him from his work.

"You sure? I mean, umm, well…"

"Daniel, I'm a big girl," she said. "Besides, it's just a sprained ankle and…" Her voice trailed off as her front door opened, and Eric stepped out onto her stoop. "Daniel?"

"I sorta swiped his number out of your PDA," he confessed. "Oh, Jack just told him that you fell down some stairs," he said softly as Eric walked towards her.

"Sam, are you ok?" he asked.

"My pride took more of a beating than I did," she said as Daniel handed her bag over to Eric.

"I'll bully Jack into helping me get your car back later," Daniel said, turning and heading back towards his car.

"Thanks, Daniel," Eric said, standing back to let Sam limp up the steps. He drove off as Sam entered her house. She could sense Eric hovering as she made her way to the sofa, gratefully sinking down onto the cushions.

"That looks like it hurts," he said, sitting down beside her.

"It's just a sprain," Sam dismissed, raising her leg while he grabbed a throw pillow and leaned forward, helping her to prop her leg up.

"And this?" he pushed aside her hair, revealing a colorful bruise on her temple.

"Why I got to spend the night in the infirmary last night," she explained, closing her eyes and leaning back against the cushions. "I guess I blacked out for a couple of minutes."

"You're ok now?"

"Yeah, little sore but, nothing time won't fix."

"Good, good."

"I'm sorry about last night," she said, opening her eyes. "I wanted to call you but Janet gave me something that knocked me out. I think I woke up about 0200."

"It's ok. Colonel O'Neill let me know."

"He did what?"

"He let me know that you weren't going to make it."

She frowned, looking at him. "He didn't…do anything, did he?"

"Nothing to write home about," he dismissed. "How about a bath?" he suggested, abruptly changing the subject.

"What?"

"Nothing helps sore muscles better than a nice hot bath," he said, getting to his feet. He looked to his watch. "It's almost eleven. While you bathe, I can cook some lunch and then you can take it easy for the rest of the day."

Not in the mood to argue, and thoroughly enjoying the prospect of some pampering, she let the conversation drop, instead nodding her ascent. He helped her to her feet, then surprised her by abandoning the crutches, instead picking her up in his arms. "You goof," she complained. "I'm too heavy for you to be lugging me around."

"Quit your whining," he teased, carrying her into the bathroom. He set her down on the toilet and started the bath water. "What do you want? Sweats?"

"Yeah," she said, bending over to untie the one shoe she was wearing. "In the chest of drawers. Underwear's in the top drawer. I should have a pair of sweats and a t-shirt lying on the bed."

He nodded and left the room while she worked on getting undressed, discovering more sore muscles while she twisted around. He came back in a minute with the sweats she'd been using for pajamas. "You need some help?" he offered.

"I'll be ok," she said.

"Ok. I'll go see what I can find for lunch. Don't lock the door," he said, pulling it closed behind him.

Taking off the last of her clothes, she hobbled over to the bathtub and carefully sank into the steaming water. Propping her ankle up on the edge, she leaned back, sighing as the soothing warmth sank into her bones.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Eric listened to the sounds coming from the bathroom, waiting to know that Sam was getting out of the tub before he started the last part of lunch. He'd found a can of tomato soup and the makings for grilled cheese sandwiches in her refrigerator and had heated the soup up while she bathed.

Hearing the water drain, he walked to the bathroom, grabbing her crutches along the way. "You hungry?" he asked.

"Starved," she said, awkwardly opening the door. He handed her the crutches and stepped back, allowing her to precede him down the short hall. She made her way into her small kitchen and sat down on one of the chairs, propping her crutches at her side. "Smells good."

"Tomato soup and grilled cheese, good for what ails ya," he said, buttering the bread and putting it in the pan to toast. "Do you need any drugs?"

She shook her head. "Just over the counter. I took some in the bathroom." She took a sip of the diet coke he'd set out for her. "I should be pleasantly buzzed in about half an hour."

He served up the soup and sandwiches and joined her at the table. "How long are you off?" he asked, sipping the soup.

She shrugged. "Few days. I could probably go back next week if I wanted to."

"Think you'll be up for a picnic this weekend?" he asked.

"What picnic?" Sam asked.

"Daniel told me about it when he called this morning. Your aah, General Hammond, is having a Labor Day cookout this weekend. Daniel said we're invited if you feel like it."

"Oh, yeah, that," she said, her tone far from enthusiastic.

"What?"

She shook her head. "Nothing. I just…didn't even know if I was going or not."

He shrugged. "It's not for a couple of days. Plenty of time," he said, wondering about the true reason for her reticence.  Did she not want to go to some social event…or did she not want to go with him to a social event?

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

George laid the last of the hamburgers on the grill and reached for the salt and pepper, movement around the side of the house catching his eyes. He watched Sam Carter limp her way into his backyard, escorted by Eric Anderson, barely recognizing the man from the picture in his file. "They're still seeing each other?" he asked Jack.

"Looks like it," he answered, handing the general a beer.

"They look good together," George said as Eric escorted Sam to a chair before pulling another one over to sit beside her.

"They do. Carter seems to like him."

"He came up clean," George said softly as Teal'c and Daniel joined the pair. "He does contract work for an old friend of mine. Not exactly above board, but nothing too horribly illegal either."

"I know," Jack said.

"You don't sound too thrilled, Jack," he said, flipping a couple of the burgers over.

"How many times did you lie to your wife?"

"What?"

"Sara and I were married for fifteen years. I did classified stuff for about half that, let's say two dozen missions a year…sometimes more. After a few months, she stopped asking what I did, out loud anyway, but it was still there. She'd still look at me, wanting to know, but knew that she couldn't even ask."

George sighed, taking a slug of his beer. "It's never easy," George said, remembering his own lies, lies he was even now telling to a third generation. Pretty soon Kayla and Tessa were going to be old enough to not simply accept 'Grandpa has to work late' as a valid excuse. Eventually they were going to ask him questions that he couldn't answer.

"Yeah," Jack said, nodding to George before walking away and joining the rest.

"I didn't know you were going to make it," Daniel said as he and Teal'c joined Sam and Eric.  The barbeque was a small affaire, just SG-1 although Janet and Cassie were due to join them later.  Years ago, it used to be an open gathering for all the SG teams, but once those teams got above nine in number, it just started to get to be way too big for General Hammond's back yard to handle.

He moved it to the SGC, allowing the cooks to get creative and serve cook out style food for those that have to work and turning his own gathering into more of one of friends than a facility wide celebration.

The invitation was always there for anyone to bring a guest, but Sam was the first one to actually do that, something which likely accounted for the less than enthusiastic expression on her face.

She shrugged. "Eric talked me into it."

"I am pleased to see you are feeling better, Major Carter," Teal'c said.

"Thanks…Murray," she said, making an apologetic face. She knew exactly how much Teal'c hated the moniker Jack had dubbed him with.

Conversation faded and they sat there for a few seconds. "So, aah, Sam said you work with TV stations," Daniel said, trying to find something they could talk about in front of him.

Eric looked at her and frowned. "Yeah, I do," he answered. "Columbine. It's a program the stations use to manage their commercials."

"That sounds interesting," Daniel said, turning his head as Jack walked towards them, stopping to snag a couple of bottles of beer from the cooler.

"It has its moments," Eric said, looking up as a brown bottle appeared in front of his face.

"Beer?" Jack offered.

"Thanks."

"Thank you, sir," Sam said.

"What has its moments?" Jack asked, snagging a chair.

"Eric was just telling us about his job, working with TV stations," Daniel explained.

"It sounds like a most interesting occupation," Teal'c said.

"So, Sam never did tell me, what do you guys do? Do you lecture with her at the academy?"

The three men looked at each other. "Jack has," Daniel said. "We've all worked with the cadets, once or twice. I'm a doctor of archaeology and Murray…"

"I instruct the students in the art of self-defense," Teal'c said, finishing the last of his can of soda. He crushed the can in his hands, staring at Eric while he did so. "I shall see if General Hammond requires any assistance."

"So, doctor of archaeology?" Eric said, shooting Teal'c a wary look as he walked away. "You know, I was in Cambodia a while back. Have you ever seen the ruins there?"

Sam listened to them talk, the tension fading as they found common ground in past experiences. She shot Jack a warning look, hoping to forestall any more testosterone laden displays. He merely shrugged and leaned back in the chair, crossing his long legs in front of him.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Sam limped into her house, balancing on the crutches to flip on a light. Hearing Eric behind her and trusting him to lock the door, she continued into the living room, gratefully plopping down on the couch. They'd stayed longer than she'd planned, her original thought being to stay long enough to be polite, eat dinner and then use her ankle as a good excuse to leave early.

However, it seemed the guys had other ideas, first Daniel, then, after she'd arrived, Janet engaging Eric in conversation and before Sam knew it, the sun was setting. The gathering darkness was a perfect excuse and they'd made their excuses, leaving just as the rest of the gathering was breaking up.

"That was fun," Eric said, sitting beside her on the couch.

"God, I'm sorry," she said, leaning into him.

"Sorry for what?"

"How many times did Murray sneak up behind you?" she asked, cringing in memory of her friends' behavior.  Teal'c had been the most overt, his Jaffa intimidation causing even Hammond to frown once or twice.

He chuckled. "I thought it was sorta funny."

"Funny? It's embarrassing. I half expected him to start beating on his chest or something."

"That would have been fun to watch," he quipped. She punched him playfully in the side. "I like your friends. I think the two doctors would make a cute couple. And it really wasn't that bad," he said. "Although if looks could kill, O'Neill would have another notch in his belt."

"What do you mean?" she asked.

He shook his head. "Nothing."

"Eric?"

"No, look, it's nothing," he dismissed. He squinted, catching the time on her VCR. "I gotta go," he said, pushing up from the couch.

"Why? It's early, relatively speaking."

"Yeah, but I have a flight at nine am."

"I thought you were taking time off?" she asked, sitting forward.

"I was. I did. But I need to go take care of something. I'll call you when I get back," he promised, leaning in and giving her a kiss.

"Take care," she said as he pulled back.

"You too. Don't forget to lock the door."

Sam listened to him leave then got to her feet, carefully hobbling along without her crutches. She looked out the window as he drove away, and then threw the deadbolt on the door. She sighed, turning and slowly making her way back to her bedroom, contemplating whether or not to try and make it into work in the morning and play catch up.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Eric drove through the darkened streets, his mind more on the events of the day than his driving. Ever since he met them in Nevada, he'd been wondering what Sam's friends were really like; beyond the facts and figures he'd managed to dig up on his own.

Whitlow had, for once, been a total lack of help, refusing to tell him anything beyond 'There's classified, and classified, Eric. This is the kinda stuff the Joint Chiefs debate whether or not to tell the President about,'.

Armed with names, Eric had done his own digging, and managed to come up with not much. Murray didn't exist at all, and other than a few gloriously vague commendations on their records and the inexplicable awarding of the Air Medal, both Sam's and O'Neill's service records seemed to end the day they were assigned to Cheyenne Mountain.

Lacking a service record, he'd run Daniel Jackson's credit history, and found even stranger things, not the least of which were two year long periods of absolutely no activity. It was almost like the guy just ceased to exist for months at a time.

Instead of satisfying his curiosity, what little he'd found out only served to pique his interest. What in the hell was going on inside that mountain? Weapons research? That didn't make any sense. What did they need an astrophysicist for if it was weapons research? Or an archaeologist for that matter.

He shook his head. That made even less sense.

Forcing himself to concentrate on his impending mission, he set aside thoughts of solving the mystery. He'd figure it out, eventually. All it'd take is asking the right question to the right person at the right time.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Jack whistled between his teeth as he walked down the hall the light coming from a lab making him pause. He paused in the doorway, raising his eyebrows at the sight of Sam leaning over her work bench. "Carter," he said. "What are you still doing here?"

"Sir?" She looked up.

"It's 1900 on a Friday night. Why aren't you out…side somewhere?" he asked, walking into the room.

"Because I have this to do," she said, motioning towards the slightly dissected piece of…something spread out on the work table.

He leaned against her work bench, picking up what looked to be a nice harmless bit of metal. "I mean, why aren't you and Eric out doing something?"

She smiled. "He's out of town."

He frowned. "He's been out of town for a while, hasn't he?"

"Yeah." She nodded. "About a month now," she said, her tone going distinctly worried.

"I'm sure he's fine," Jack said.

"Me too," she said, obviously forcing false optimism into her voice.

Jack set down the bit of metal. "Go home soon," he said.

"I was going to go home in about an hour or so."

"Do that. Don't make me sic Teal'c on you," he threatened.  "I'll see you Monday."

"Good night, sir."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

The next morning, Sam walked barefoot outside to get her paper. It was a beautiful Saturday morning, the sky was clear and she could already see some of the neighborhood kids playing across the street. It would be a perfect day for a bike ride, she thought, making her way back to her house.

She heard a car pull up, and she turned around, frowning when she recognized it. She watched General Hammond get out of the car and walk up her sidewalk. "General Hammond. What aah, what brings you here?" she asked, crossing her arms and holding her paper over her chest, suddenly aware that she was still wearing her pajamas.

"Good morning," he said. "Can I come in?"

"Sure," she said, stepping back and motioning for him to go inside.

She followed, setting the  paper down on the hall table. "Did you want some coffee?"

"Thanks," he said, continuing into the kitchen.  She poured them both a mug and joined him at the table.  "A couple of hours ago I got a phone call from a friend of mine," he said seriously.  "Two weeks ago, Eric missed a contact time with his employer."

His quiet words hit her like a sledge hammer to the chest. "Where?"

He shook his head. "He couldn't tell me." He reached out and put his hand over hers. "They've looked for him, and they'll keep looking for him."

She closed her eyes. "Whatever he was doing, it wasn't official, was it?"

"No. It wasn't illegal but…it wasn't sanctioned either."

She opened her eyes. "So, if he's still alive, he's on his own?" He nodded. She looked down at her hands, wrapped unfeelingly around a coffee mug.

"I'm sorry, Sam," he said sincerely. "I wish I could tell you more, but that's all I know."

"I understand, sir. Thank you," she replied automatically.

He got up, pushing back the chair. "You're off until Monday. If you need some more time, just let me know." She nodded. "I'll let myself out," he said. He put a  comforting hand on her shoulder. "I'm sorry." Still in shock, she just  nodded again, barely noticing him as he left the house, shutting the door behind him.

Two hours later she was on her bike, speeding down Interstate 25. She drove on autopilot, her mind thousands of miles away, maybe more. Where could he be? She remembered him talking to Daniel not only about Cambodia, but also places in South America and Africa. He'd been all over the world. He could literally be anywhere.

She knew she was lucky that she even knew he was missing. She wasn't his next of kin or anything…hell, legally she was nothing. If it wasn't for her contacts, she'd never even know. She'd probably just go to his apartment and find it cleared out, with no indication of why.

Right now, she regretted never pushing him about his work. She regretted not knowing more, regretted that she might never know any more.

Pushing her regrets behind her, she gunned the engine, accelerating past the speed limit and not caring as the scenery became a golden blur.

It was late afternoon when she arrived at her destination. She pulled her bike off the road and took off her helmet, frowning at the dark skies and chill air. So much for her nice day, she thought as she focused on the storm clouds gathering. It'd be raining soon, or maybe even snowing, it was certainly getting cold enough all of a sudden.

Hiking up the incline, she looked around for the first time in hours. It looked almost like it did the first time she was here. The leaves were thinner, just a few stubborn ones clinging to the pin oaks, not quite ready to surrender to winter's inexorable grasp.

Other leaves fluttered around her feet, pushed about by the gathering wind as she walked. She finally reached the ruin, pausing for a moment to catch her breath. She looked around, searching for some sign left from the last time they'd been here, but there was nothing, a year's worth of weather being enough to erase any indication that they'd ever been there.

She sank to her knees, not feeling the loose gravel as the first drops of cold rain began to fall. Reaching into her pocket, she pulled out the coin, rubbing the cold metal between her fingers. She stared at the face on it, the image of a person long dead, but not forgotten. They'd never be forgotten, not as long as this coin existed.

How many people had held this in their hands? How many dreams had it bought? How many lives had this little bit of precious metal changed?

It was a fantasy, the stuff of fairy tales and children's books. She should know by now that fantasies never happen, and dreams…dreams rarely came true.

Hopes and dreams were for the young and naïve…the rest lived in reality. And reality had little tolerance for fantasy.

With one cold, wet hand, she dug a small hole in the gravel, gently kissing the coin before placing it in its grave,  returning it from whence it came with a quick brush of her hand.

For a few minutes she sat there, hot tears mingling with cold rain, then she got to her feet and turned around. Without looking back, she crammed her helmet on her head and grabbed her bike, pushing it to the roadside.

With a throaty roar, the bike drove off into the gathering darkness, leaving only silence in its wake.

Fin


End file.
